Release
by Katica Locke
Summary: Finished! After Bobby is accused of a horrible crime, it's up to Alex and the detectives of SVU to uncover the truth, however unbelievable it may be. Bobby&Alex, AU, CI&SVU crossover.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note - This is a fantasy, supernatural, mysterious, angsty, romance story involving all your favorite characters from Law and Order: CI and SVU. I tried to keep it as cannon as possible, but this is something you will never see on TV. Still, if the characters can suspend their disbelief for my little adventure, so can you. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

_"In New York City's war on crime, the worst criminal offenders are pursued by the detectives of the Major Case Squad. These are their stories."_

"Eames, can I see you in here a moment?" Alex glanced up from her paperwork. Captain Deakins stood in the doorway of his office, a slight frown on his face, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring at Bobby's empty chair. She'd been doing the same, on and off, for the last half hour. It wasn't like Bobby to be late. He was usually there before she was.

She stepped inside the office and closed the door behind her. "You're going to have to work with Detective Sledge for today, maybe a couple of days. Your partner just called in sick." Alex opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"He doesn't get sick," she said finally. "He - I don't think he's taken a sick day since we were assigned to each other."

"Or in the four years before that." Deakins shook his silvered head and sighed. "He couldn't have picked a worse time, either. A young woman was found raped and murdered in the apartment she and her boyfriend share. He's nowhere to be seen."

"Sounds pretty open and shut then," Alex said. "But it's not, is it?" Deakins gave her a crooked, humorless grin.

"Let's just say I really wish Goren was here."

* * *

"Yeah, the guy was like, this total freak. Never hit her or nothin', least not as I could tell, but he didn't like Sarah talkin' to no other guys, that's for sure." Alex didn't turn as the body was wheeled past in its thick black bag, but the man she was questioning, Sarah Littrel's neighbor, Buck Harris, watched it pass with a single-minded fascination. Once the coroner had disappeared around the corner, he turned back to her. "Sonofabitch nearly broke my wrist just for sayin' good morning to her last year."

"Did you hear anything last night, yelling, screaming?" Mr. Harris shrugged and scratched at the three day's worth of beard on his face.

"I was kind of busy, banging the wife," he said with a lascivious grin. Now Alex really wished Bobby was there. One look from those dark, intense eyes, a quick jerk of the head, almost bird-like, and men like Mr. Harris found more appropriate phrases for their nightly activities. She was relieved when Detective Sledge came striding up the hall.

The man was nearly a stranger around One Police Plaza, only transferred in a few months ago. She couldn't remember seeing the tall, black haired man with the deep, lake blue eyes more than a handful of times - which was a shame. He was nice to look at. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, strong jaw, and he certainly knew how to dress himself. Dark, charcoal gray suits with deep, rich colored shirts, sometimes blue to match his eyes, but often red or burgundy; both colors were very complimentary. He didn't seem to like ties. She had the feeling he took as long preparing his wardrobe as she did. Now Bobby, on the other hand ... he always looked fine, but it seemed incidental.

"Ready?" the tall detective asked with a lift of his eyebrows. Today he was wearing the burgundy, which, coincidentally, matched her sleeveless top almost perfectly. She thanked Mr. Harris for his help and left their card, requesting that he call if he remembered anything else. She turned to her interim partner as they headed for the elevator.

"What do you make of it?" she asked. Sledge shrugged, a stiff gesture.

"Possessive boyfriend suspects victim of cheating," he said, his tone clipped, curt. "He rapes, then stabs said victim twice in the abdomen and writes 'whore' on the apartment wall with her blood before disappearing. He's probably in Arizona by now."

"What's in Arizona?" Alex asked, glancing up at him. He wasn't as tall as Bobby, around six feet was all, but even short men were taller than her.

"Sand and snakes, mostly," Sledge said with another of those mechanical shrugs. "I only lived there for a while, but it's about as far from here as you can get, culturally speaking."

"Ah, I'd been wondering where you bought your tan," she said with a small smile. "Silly me."

* * *

Alex pulled the car over and turned off the engine. She left the keys dangling in the ignition in case Sledge wanted to listen to the radio.

"This'll just take a minute," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. Beside her, Sledge did the same.

"I'll come too, if it's all right." She glanced up through the windshield at the apartment beside them.

"I'd rather you didn't," she said at last, climbing out of the car to avoid looking at his face. "Goren can be..." she let the sentence die, but any cop who'd been in town more than a day knew how Bobby could be. When she looked back in the window, Sledge was fiddling with the radio knobs. She walked around the car and headed up the steps.

"Hey, Eames," Sledge called, leaning on the edge of the window, "do you always take this good a care of your partners?" He smiled and it was charming, and he knew it.

"You better hope so," she quipped back, but then looked up at the building blocking the sun above her. "He's more than my partner, though; he's my friend." She turned away from those dark blue eyes and went inside.

She hadn't expected him to answer when she knocked - he was ill, after all, but she was surprised to find the door unlocked. She had her weapon half drawn as she slowly eased the door open and stepped inside.

"Bobby?" she called, her attention drawn toward the little kitchen off the living room. She could hear footsteps. The steps faltered at the sound of her voice, but didn't stop.

"Eames, is that you?" She nearly sighed with relief as the quiet rumble of her partner's voice filled the room. Replacing her gun in its holster, she headed for the kitchen. "Eames, you... shouldn't be here." She stopped dead at the sight of him, pacing back and forth across the linoleum, barefoot, in faded jeans, his short-sleeved denim shirt buttoned crooked, his hair mussed. He'd been drinking; not a lot, but she could tell.

"What's wrong?" she asked, a cold weight settling in the pit of her stomach. Shoulders hunched, he bowed his head and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, like he'd done so many times before, but this time, there was a rawness in his eyes, a pain he'd never let her see before. "Is it your mother?" she asked softly. The pain deepened, but he shook his head.

"No... No, she's... fine. You should go." She took a step toward him and he backed away, up against the counter. He pressed his knuckles against his chin and refused to look at her again. "You... You need to go, Eames." She opened her mouth to protest, but a car horn drifted in through the open window, two short and one long. "Your new partner," Bobby said, his tone not quite making a question out of it.

"Temporary," she said. "Very temporary, I hope. Detective Sledge is helping on this case until you get back." She expected at the very least a disparaging remark about the new detective, or a inquiry into the case, but he remained silent, standing unnaturally still, like he was afraid to move. Unnerved, she volunteered the information. "A young woman was found raped and murdered in her apartment. So far, evidence points to the possessive boyfriend, but that feels too simple."

"Nothing is ever... simple," he whispered, then he turned and paced to the far side of the room. "Could you... go, please, Alex, just go... please." It was her name on his lips that set off the final alarm in her head. He never did that unless things were really hairy, like if someone was pointing a gun at her. In the street below, Sledge honked the horn again. If she didn't go down, he'd come up, and she didn't want to see what Bobby would do his least favorite co-worker, not in the state he was in. For someone so big, he seemed very fragile right then. She didn't want to leave but...

"I have to go," she said, "but I'll be back, and then you're telling me what's going on here, Bobby. I'm your partner, remember? It's my job to watch your back." He glanced at her, that scared little boy look, but didn't say anything. They shared a moment of silent communication, him expressing how much he didn't want her there, her replying that she didn't give a damn, that she was worried. She finally turned away. "And lock this door," she called over her shoulder. "This is New York, for God's sake."

Sledge was just climbing out of the car as she exited the building. He looked slightly annoyed, but it was nothing to the worry and anger churning inside her. She was about to lay into him when he pre-empted her tirade with one little word.

"Suicide." She stared at him blankly, so he elaborated. "Captain just called. ME ruled it a suicide. Wounds were self inflicted. Our victim stabbed herself and then played Picasso on the walls with her own blood."

"And the boyfriend?"

"In Sacramento. He's been gone since Tuesday." Alex slowly walked around to the driver's side and climbed in. She glanced over at Sledge as he settled himself beside her.

"So who raped her?"

"That's what Special Victim's would like to know. Apparently, there were three rapes last night, all by the same perp, but only our victim wound up dead. They're waiting at HQ to talk to us." Alex let a slow breath hiss between her teeth.

"Great, SVU, just what I need," she muttered as she started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	2. Chapter 2

There was a man sitting at her desk. If he hadn't exuded the essence of detective, she have been pissed. He was of average build, maybe a little better than average looks, even with his receding hairline, but the ingrained scowl on his face made him instantly unlikable. She couldn't imagine him having smiled in the last year. He was staring across the room, one hand resting on a closed file folder. It had better not be one of hers. Next to him stood a somber looking woman, dark hair, pretty, taller than herself, with large, alert eyes. It was she who noticed Alex and Sledge first.

"Olivia Benson," the woman said, walking forward to meet them. She shook hands with Alex first. "This is my partner, Elliot Stabler." Alex started to make introductions, like she always did, but Sledge spoke first, just another reminder of what she was missing.

"Pleasure to meet you," Sledge said with the grace of much ass-kissing. "This is Alexandra Eames. I'm Edward Sledge." After everyone had finished with the requisite hand-shaking, Sledge asked, "So, how can we help you?" The man, Stabler, looked right at her.

"Where's your regular partner; Detective Goren?" he asked. She bristled slightly. Bobby usually didn't need protecting; few dared to tangle with the giant of a man, but she had the feeling that Stabler would, and enjoy it.

"He's under the weather," she replied. "Why? What is this about?" Benson shot her partner a look, somewhere between 'knock it off' and 'be nice', and reached for the file he was holding.

"Two women were raped last night, three including your vic. They didn't know each other, they've never spoken, each doesn't even know the other exists." Alex nodded impatiently. She got the point. "We had each work with a different sketch artist. This is what we got." She handed Alex the folder. Alex fought the sudden urge to drop the file and walk away. She opened it.

Only her years as Bobby's partner, all the games and roles she had played, kept the gasp tucked quietly inside. The sketch was of Bobby. A few details were off, of course; the face was a hair too thin, the mouth a little too wide, but it was Bobby - except for the eyes. The eyes were all wrong. Even photographs couldn't do justice to his dark, intense, brooding eyes, the quick little glances, the smiles that never touched his lips, but the eyes of this sketch were just wrong. His soulful, intelligent eyes looked empty, crazed, agonized - The image of him in his apartment, the pain he shared, or couldn't hide, stabbed through her.

She pulled out the second sketch, knowing she'd looked at the first too long. You didn't linger if you didn't recognize. The second picture was drawn by a different hand. The lines were softer, the strokes shorter, but it was as if both artists had drawn from the same inspiration. Alex closed the folder and presented an empty face to Benson.

"What is it you're trying say?" she said, watching a parade of thoughts and emotions crawl through the taller woman's eyes. Benson had issues with rapists.

"Where was Detective Goren last night?" Stabler demanded, stepping half around his partner.

"You have got to be joking," Alex said, crossing her arms over her chest. She glanced around. Luckily, it was early afternoon and the room was nearly empty, and those few who remained were at least pretending to mind their own business. "Robert Goren would never -"

"Never say never, Eames." They all spun around. Bobby stood a few desks away, his head tilted sideways, looking at the ground. He'd put shoes on, straightened his shirt and tried to brush his hair. Alex hadn't realized she'd taken a step toward him until Sledge put a hand on her arm, stopping her. "After seeing you -" Bobby glanced at her. "-I knew what I had to do. I can't risk... hurting anyone... anyone else."

"Bobby..." Alex whispered, but Stabler pushed past her, stepping right up to the taller man.

"You admit it," he hissed. "You raped those women." Bobby started to turn away, his 'pace and think' maneuver, but Stabler misread it as evasion. He grabbed Bobby by the upper arm to turn him back around. Bobby shook him off. Stabler raised his fists, whether to block an attack or lash out, nobody waited long enough to find out. Sledge and Benson pulled Stabler back and Alex stepped between them and Bobby. Stabler didn't fight them, raising his hands in surrender, and Sledge let go. Benson kept one hand in the middle of his chest. Partner knows best, Alex thought as she turned toward Bobby.

He had moved away from her again, circling around the island of their desks to examine the sketches of himself. He was deep in thought, his brow furrowed as she came up beside him and reached across his arm to close the file. Her hand brushed his, and she gasped.

She wanted him. She wanted to rip the buttons off his shirt and throw him down onto their desks. She wanted to drag her fingernails down his back and feel his smooth, firm flesh in her mouth -

Alex stumbled back and kicked a small metal garbage can, the hollow, off-key peal bringing her back to her senses and drawing every eye in the room. She needed to sit, sit until her heart stopped pounding and her knees stopped trembling. What had happened? She glanced up at Bobby, who was staring at her with those frightened, haunted eyes.

"Eames, are you all right? Eames?" Sledge was talking to her. He'd bent over so that his face was just a foot from hers. Now, if there was ever a face to lust after, that was it. Hesitantly, Alex reached out and touched his hand, steeling herself for whatever insanity had seized her before. Sledge cocked an eyebrow at her touch, but nothing else passed between them. "What's going on?" he asked. She let her hand drop back to her side.

"I -" She felt her ears growing hot. How could she explain? It was too embarrassing to even think about. "I'm not sure." She turned to the only other woman in the room. "Detective Benson, could I have a word with you, please." The delirium had passed and Alex was again returning to her crisp, analytical mind. She and Benson retreated a fair distance, but kept an eye on the three men, who stood silently in their own thoughts. "Tell me, do you think your partner is attractive?" Benson looked flustered.

"Well, I suppose," she stammered, "he is handsome."

"Are you attracted to him?"

"No," Benson answered, almost too quickly, "he's my partner." If this had been an interrogation, Alex would have accused her of lying. But it wasn't, so it didn't matter.

"What about my partner?"

"Detective Sledge? He's gorgeous." She narrowed her eyes. "Why?" Alex shook her head, not ready to test her theory quite yet.

"Not Sledge, Goren." Benson opened her mouth, but it took a long time for words to finally come out.

"He's... tall," she said, "and he needs a shave. And he's the primary suspect in three rape cases - What is this all about?" Alex sighed.

"When I accidentally touched his hand a minute ago, I had this - I felt - I can't explain it, but I need to know if it's him, or if I'm just going crazy."

"And what do you expect me to do?"

"Just touch him, Detective Benson," Alex said, "skin to skin contact. Just for a second." Benson looked over at her partner, who was scowling at Bobby. She was going to refuse, Alex could feel it.

"All right, but I want a DNA sample first."

"He didn't rape those women, Detective," Alex said stiffly.

"Then let's prove it," Benson countered. "DNA will rule him out... if he's innocent."

"It's not up to me. You'll have to ask him, and without a court order -"

"We have more than enough evidence to get one."

"Then do it," Alex snapped, her words echoing in the silence. She glanced around. Everyone was watching them again. She couldn't remember when she'd raised her voice. How much had they heard? Bobby took a shuffling, sideways step toward them.

"If it's DNA you want... take it," he said. "I... I want to know the... truth, as well."

"You're tying to tell us you don't know?" Stabler burst out. He laughed. Alex ignored him.

"Bobby, don't you think you should call a lawyer?" she said. He shook his head, speaking in a voice so low she could barely hear him.

"I think it's the schizophrenia, Alex, I think I'm... losing it, losing everything. I remember things I couldn't... couldn't have done, and I... this morning I woke up and I was... I was... I can't remember." He looked at her sharply, suddenly. "I don't want to hurt anyone else." She looked in his eyes, and was terrified, not of him, not of anything he might do, but for him, terrified that he might be right, that his brilliant, quirky mind might be turning on him. She started to reach out to him, to comfort him, but stopped her hand inches from his. Until she knew what was going on, she didn't want to risk touching him, risk bringing that madness down upon herself again. Just the memory of that uncontrollable lust made her cheeks burn.

They both jumped as the shrill cry of a cell phone split the silence.

"Benson," the detective answered. Her large eyes widened slightly and she looked over at Bobby. "Yes, he's right here. Yes. No. Thanks, John, we'll be right down." She hung up and turned to her partner. "We've got another victim; Detective Goren's downstairs neighbor. She's identified him a her attacker." Alex could do nothing as Stabler stepped forward, cuffs in hand.

"Robert Goren, you're under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." Alex shot a pointed look at Benson. Not only did she not want the obviously hostile Stabler slapping cuffs on her partner, but this would be the perfect opportunity to test her theory. Benson gave an almost imperceptible nod and stepped forward, taking the handcuffs from her partner. He finished with the Miranda Rights and stood by protectively while Benson stepped behind Bobby.

Bobby stood as still as a Central Park statue, his eyes cast down, his thoughts buried so deep even Alex couldn't read his face. Benson grabbed his wrist - and went rigid.

The attack lasted only a second, and then she jerked back, dropping the cuffs with a clatter. Her face and neck flushed a deep rose and she quickly bent down to retrieve the dropped handcuffs.

"What happened?" Stabler demanded, eyeing Bobby as if it had been his fault. Benson straightened up, absently brushing her hair back from her face as she handed Stabler his cuffs.

"You do it," she said. "I have to have a word with Eames." Alex didn't want to leave her partner's side, but she let Benson guide her across the room. "Is that what you expected to happen?" she hissed. "You could have warned me."

"I wasn't sure _what_ was going to happen," Alex said. "For all I knew, it was in my head." She ran a hand wearily over her face. "So, tell me what you felt." Benson's face took on a hint of that rose blush again. "That bad, huh? Me too."

"I've never wanted a man that badly before," Benson whispered, even though there was no one within fifteen feet to overhear them. "If that moment had lasted any longer, I don't know what I would have done."

"I'd have done him, right there on the desks," Alex confessed. She and Benson - no, Olivia - exchanged embarrassed looks, then small smiles, but something dark and ominous nagged at her. "What could cause this?" she asked. "What could make us lust after him with only a fleeting touch? And what is it doing to him?"

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	3. Chapter 3

"I just got off the phone with Captain Cragen," Deakins said, stepping out of his office and stopping the two Special Victim's officers from hauling Bobby off then and there. "Your boss is one hell of a hard-ass." He sounded both impressed and angry. "Eames, give Detectives Benson and Stabler the case file from this morning's rape/suicide. You and Sledge are officially off this one. It's too... close." He looked away as he said it, as if he doubted Bobby's innocence. Of course, he hadn't worked with Bobby day in and day out for the last three years. He didn't know him like she did. No one did.

"Captain -" Alex started but he cut her off with a frustrated shake of his head.

"You'll have council waiting for you down at SVU headquarters, Goren. Don't say anything until he's had a chance to speak with you." But Bobby didn't seem to be listening. He was far, far away. Alex watched as he was walked over to the elevator and disappeared behind the shiny steel doors. She wanted to go with him so bad, but what good could she do... there. She dropped into her chair and fired up her computer. "You're taking this well," Deakins said, leaning against her desk, his arms folded across his chest. "I figured we'd have to restrain you to keep you here."

"He didn't do it, sir," Alex said, not bothering to look up from her keyboard. "I'm going to prove it, and I can't do that from lockup."

* * *

The DNA was a match.

Alex stared at the computer screen without seeing it. The information it contained was important, but right then, she couldn't remember why. Olivia's voice still rang in her head, even thought she'd hung up the phone... five minutes ago? Her eyes shifted to the clock, - it was ten after five - and she watched the red second hand whirl around the face before coming back to her senses with a snap.

Bobby's DNA was perfect match to the rapist's. Only a long-lost identical twin could have perpetrated this crime instead. Though she had no legal compulsion to do so, and few good reasons not to, Olivia had shared the information from the rape kits. Although there had been some pre-ejaculate excretions, no semen was found in any of the victims, nor was there evidence of condoms being used. DNA had been gathered from skin scraped out from under the vic's fingernails. Though the lawyer wouldn't let them look without a court order, which Stabler was hell-bent on getting, Olivia has pretty sure they'd find matching scratches down Bobby's back. Alex couldn't help but agree.

She turned back to her research. This crap she was reading sounded ridiculous, but, apart from Bobby suddenly becoming this horrible monster, it was the only explanation. She printed the pages out and grabbed her coat.

* * *

"You're kidding, right?" Olivia said, looking up from the folder in her hands. "He's an incubus?" Alex closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the two-way mirror.

"I know it sounds crazy," she said again, "but you touched him, you felt it. Instant, overwhelming, uncontrollable lust." She heard Olivia swallow hard in the silence.

"Okay, let's say you're right. Has he always been like this?" Alex opened her eyes and stepped back from the mirror, watching Stabler trying to intimidate Bobby. It was almost funny.

"No, he couldn't have been," she said. "He... he doesn't seem to know the meaning of personal space. He's always reaching across me while we work, we're always bumping, touching. I think I'd have noticed."

"So, you're thinking it's a curse then?"

"He certainly wasn't born with it." In the interrogation room, Stabler slammed both hands down on the table. Bobby didn't even blink. "It has to be a witch, a powerful one, who isn't bothered by the rule of three."

"Sorry, you lost me," Olivia said, leaning against the wall. "Rule of three?"

"It's kind of the guiding force behind Wicca, a golden rule, I guess. Whatever you do shall come back upon you threefold, be it good or evil."

"And there are practicing witches in the New York area capable of this?"

"You should see their chatrooms," Alex said with a bitter smile. "I think the trick will be to find someone willing, not capable." She swept her hair back out of her eyes. "Do you mind if I have a few words with the neighbor?"

"What for?"

"I have a hunch." Olivia looked skeptical. "You're welcome to come along, of course."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	4. Chapter 4

Katrina Anderson looked up from the floor as Alex and Olivia entered the room. They were in Captain Cragen's office; the only private place that wasn't a cold, empty interrogation room. You didn't interrogate the victims. Not usually, at least. Alex took a seat across from her, studying the thin, sculpted face, the large, dark eyes, while Olivia explained who they were and what they wanted.

"Call me Kat," was the first thing Miss Anderson said after Alex asked if they could talk. She had a sweet, soft voice.

"Thank you, Kat. You can call me Alex. I'm sorry, but can you tell me how you know Detective Goren?" Kat's eyes flickered to Olivia and back.

"I already told the other officer," she said. Alex nodded.

"I know, I just need to ask again."

"He's my neighbor."

"And before yesterday, did he ever try to hurt you or come on to you?"

"No, I rarely ever saw him, he was working so much, but when I did, he was always nice. Quiet, but nice." Now _that_ sounded like Bobby.

"Please, I know this is hard, but could you describe what happened yesterday?"

"I was just getting home from the store," she said, her voice quavering slightly. "It was getting late, I was in a hurry to start dinner before Gracie showed up. She and I always watch Survivor together. I put the groceries on the floor beside the door and got out my keys. I'd just unlocked the door when I felt -" She looked down at the floor. "-like I wasn't alone. I turned around and he grabbed me. He pushed me into the apartment and raped me." Alex pretended to make notes in the margins of her paper. Olivia wasn't going to like this.

"Kat, I have to warn you, parts of your story just don't check out. The evidence suggests something different happened."

"You think I'm lying about being raped?" Kat demanded, but she didn't look up from the floor. Alex shot Olivia a pleading look, begging her not to interrupt. This was going to get ugly.

"Kat, the rape kit we did on you found vaginal fluid, but not seminal. This would suggest that only one of you had an orgasm, and it wasn't him."

"Are you saying I enjoyed it?" Kat cried, angry tears sparkling in her dark eyes. "Are you saying this was my fault?"

"Detective Eames, can I speak with you?" Olivia asked between clenched teeth. Alex ignored her.

"I'm not saying this was anyone's fault. I just want to know the truth."

"I told you the truth!" Kat cried, tears streaking her face. "He raped me! I should have known you'd protect one of your own."

"We're not protecting him," Olivia assured her. "We just need to know that you've told us everything, so that he can never hurt anyone else again." She shot Alex a dirty look. It didn't do any good; attacking rape victims didn't exactly leave her with a fuzzy feeling inside.

"Please, Kat," Alex said, "go back to the hallway, when you realized you weren't alone. Tell us how you knew. Was it a sound, a smell, a... feeling?" Those dark eyes flickered to her, then away again.

"A feeling," she said at last, her voice thick with tears. "It was like, when Gracie and I go out to a club, and I see this guy, just some guy, across the room. I don't want to talk, I don't want to dance, I just want to find someplace dark and... you know. I never do, of course, but that was the feeling. It got stronger, almost until I couldn't breathe. I turned around, and he was standing on the stairs, watching me with those intense eyes of his. He came closer, and I didn't stop him, I couldn't, I didn't want to." She started crying again.

"Is that when he touched you?" Olivia asked softly. Kat shook her head.

"I touched him, I touched his arm, and I couldn't stop myself. I knew what I was doing, I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't stop. I ripped his shirt open." She fell silent again and neither detective pressed for any more details. It was as Alex had suspected, and she bet the other two victims were hiding the same story. After a moment, Kat spoke again. "We had sex," she said tonelessly, "on the floor... with the front door open. It was... it was... primal, like nothing I'd felt before. It was the most intense orgasm I'd ever had, but once I came, the need just died. He looked as scared as I felt, and he just ran away. He never finished." Alex exchanged looks with Olivia.

"Thank you, Kat, for being so honest," Alex said. She left Olivia to wipe away the tears and straightened up the loose ends, while she caught her breath in the hall. She felt nauseous. After a few minutes, Olivia joined her and the headed back toward the interrogation rooms.

"Even if we can get the other victims to corroborate Miss Anderson's story," Olivia said, "no judge or jury is going to buy an incubus curse as a defense."

"Maybe not," Alex said, "but if the women refuse to press charges, the DA might be persuaded not to prosecute. Especially if we hand them the person responsible."

"Something tells me witchcraft is going to be hard to prosecute." They stepped into the dark room that observed Bobby's interrogation. Stabler had left, and a friendly-looking Asian man had taken his place. Alex raised her eyebrows at Olivia. "Dr. Huang, forensic psychiatrist." Alex laughed.

"Good luck. Bobby's harder to figure out than a Rubik's cube in the dark." They watched in silence for a moment. Dr. Huang might as well have been talking to a brick wall.

"You know," Olivia said after a moment, "if you're right about this incubus thing, the real perp is still out there."

"And we've got another victim on our hands."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note - Just wanted to thank my two faithful reviewers; Anica106 and KendraC. Your comments mean so much to me. Thank you.

* * *

Dr. Huang met them in the corridor outside.

"I've heard stories about Detective Goren for years," he said quietly. "He's a legend in almost every precinct, half avenging angel, half boogeyman, respected, admired, even feared." He paused and glanced at the closed door behind him. "That's the only reason I haven't had him committed already, because as far as I an tell without a CAT-scan, he's completely catatonic, non-responsive, gone." He turned to Alex. "You're his partner; perhaps you should talk to him."

"What time does the sun set?" she asked, glancing at her watch. It was almost seven.

"Around seven thirty," Stabler said with a puzzled frown. "Why?" She didn't have time to explain, so she ignored the question.

"Olivia, if I'm not out of that room by twenty after, your partner has my permission to drag me out." She gave the taller woman a pointed look. "You stay away, got it?" Olivia nodded. Alex reached for the doorknob. "And you might want to consider evacuating the building before nightfall, unless you want more proof that I'm right."

Alex stepped into the cold, barren gray-green room, the pitted metal table and chairs taking up the center of the floor, a wide three by six mirror in one wall. It was nearly identical to the interrogation rooms back at One Police Plaza, except that there was no suspect in this one. Just her and her partner.

She leaned back against the closed door and just looked at him, his back to her, his head nodded forward and slightly to the right. He gave no sign that he knew she was there. In the still and quiet, she could feel the curse starting to come to life, emanating from her partner like an intoxicating smell, beckoning her closer. Slowly, she walked around to the other side of the table, using her detective skills to fight the desire growing within her, taking in each new detail as it was revealed.

His eyes were open, his hands cuffed, forearms resting on the edge of the table, hands loosely clasped. He wasn't drooling, thank God, but his face was empty, his eyes dull. Alex took a seat, the chair legs scraping across the cement floor. He didn't even twitch. She watched a moment more, fear gnawing at her like a wolf at a bone, but she clung to one shred of hope, that if anyone could retreat so far into themselves and come back, it would be her Bobby.

"I spoke with your neighbor, Katrina Anderson," Alex said, trying to keep her voice steady, professional. If Bobby was in there, and she started with, 'Hey Bobby, it's Alex. Can you hear me?' he'd resent her thinking him so fragile. "She knows that what happened wasn't your fault. I know it, and Detective Benson knows it. She's helping to try and unravel this ugly mess, but -" She sighed in frustration. "- to be honest, this is nothing we know how to handle. I doubt even you know anything about witchcraft." It was a heavy-handed attempt to draw him out and she wasn't surprised when it didn't work. Bobby Goren would not rise to such obvious bait.

She opened the file with the incubus information and pushed it over in front of him. "This is what's wrong with you," she said, "not schizophrenia. It's a curse, laid upon you by someone with knowledge of the occult and no fear of the consequences, a witch with a grudge. Tell me, Bobby, is there anyone -" The words died on her lips as the answer dawned on her. "Nicole Wallace," she whispered. It made sense, no one else hated Bobby as much as that woman and if she wasn't a witch herself, she was certainly capable of manipulating one to do her dirty work.

Alex checked her watch. Damn, ten after seven. She was running out of time. Standing up, she leaned forward over the table, speaking quietly into his ear. This close, she could feel the energy radiating from him, caressing her skin like the waves of some tropical ocean. "I know you can hear me, so stop blaming yourself and help us. I can't do this part without you." Still nothing. "It's almost dark, Bobby, and I'm not leaving this room until you talk to me." With that, she sat down and waited.

Minutes passed. He was either calling her bluff, fighting to return, or too far gone to come back. Only the last would have surprised her. She glanced at her watch again; seven eighteen. When she looked back up, he was watching her. "It's about time," she said, but couldn't keep a small smile from creeping onto her face.

"You have to go, Eames," he said, his quiet, rumbling voice drawing her in closer, even though she had no trouble hearing him. She blinked and stepped back.

"Already gone," she assured him, heading for the door. As she drew abreast of him, she hesitated, then pulled her keys out of her pocket. "Hold out your hands," she instructed. He didn't deserve to be cuffed.

"Let Detective..." He seemed to have trouble without a file to reference. "Stabler do it." He was right; deep down she knew it, but she shook her head.

"Relax, Bobby, I can do this. Just hold still." She was fine as she slipped the key into the first lock, but as she turned it, her knuckles grazed the heel of his hand. The room spun, and she suddenly saw herself straddling him right there in the interrogation room, his hands cuffed behind his back, his shirt torn open as she sucked and nibbled at his right nipple.

She threw herself back against the wall, staring up into the harsh fluorescent light as she fought to distance herself from that fantasy. The door burst open and Stabler and a tall, thin man with dark, graying hair and glasses rushed in. Alex held up her hand to keep them away. "I'm fine," she said between ragged breaths. "I'm okay." Reluctantly, they withdrew into the hall.

"I'm sorry, Alex," Bobby whispered, misery etching lines into his ageless face. One side of the cuffs was loose and he absently rubbed his wrist. Her keys lay on the floor between his feet.

"It's not your fault," she said, stressing each word, trying to make him understand. There was a soft knock at the door. Time to go. She straightened up and tossed her hair back out of her eyes. "I think you can finish getting those handcuffs off yourself. I'll have Detective Stabler bring you your phone so we can talk." She had to draw a slow breath, concentrating on the air moving in and out of her lungs. It was getting harder just to be in the same room with him. "Read that," she said, pointing to the file. "I'll be next door -" She gestured to the two-way mirror. " - as long as I can be. We'll figure this out, I promise." Then she fled.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.


	6. Chapter 6

"Why am I the only one here who has a problem with this?" Stabler was asking as Alex stepped into the hallway. The thin guy was with him, along with Olivia and Detective Sledge. Stabler turned and scowled at her. "The only witchcraft at work here is how you got them to swallow this line of crap."

"Ease up, Elliot," Olivia said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I didn't swallow anything, I felt the incubus on his skin when I touched him. You know how I feel about rapists, okay, but one second longer, and I - " Anger flashed in her eyes. " - I would not have been accountable for my actions."

"You would have had sex with him?" Stabler asked, as if it were the foreign and repulsive thing he'd ever heard. Olivia laughed, a sharp, bitter bark.

"No, Elliot, I'd have thrown him down on the desk and f - " Her mouth snapped shut as Captain Cragen appeared beside Sledge.

"Please, don't stop on my account," he said dryly. No one spoke. "Anyway, it seems that the suicide from this morning is a closed case. ME found anti-psychotics in her system. Boyfriend says she had a history of picking up strangers, having intercourse with them, and then trying to kill herself out of guilt in the morning. Looks like she finally succeeded. DA won't go after Goren for this one; no one could prove it wasn't consensual. Have you nailed him for the others yet?" Alex and Olivia exchanged glances.

"We've hit a snag, Captain," Olivia said, leading him back down the hall to his office. Alex stepped into the observation room to see how Bobby was doing. He was sitting in the chair much as she had left him, but he'd finished removing the cuffs and was reading the file she'd left for him.

"He's lucky." Alex glanced over her shoulder. The thin man had followed her.

"I don't see how," she said bitterly. "It's killing him."

"I meant, he's lucky to have a partner like you." Alex blinked, surprised by the compliment, but then he continued. "I wasn't so lucky and got stuck with Detective Tutuola."

"Now, that's not very nice, John." A tough looking black man was stepping into the room, his mouth framed by a thin line of beard. He looked a little out of place, like he was on the wrong side of his shield.

"Come here," beckoned John, "I want you to meet Detective Alex Eames. Alex, this is Odafin Tutuola."

"I know who she is," Tutuola said with a scowl, but he crossed the room and shook her hand anyway. "Pleasure to meet you. And call me Fin. Everybody else does." He turned to watch Bobby. Alex looked up at John.

"John Munch?" she asked. He nodded. "I should have known. So, can I count on any help from you?"

"If you mean, do I believe your partner was cursed by a wicked witch?" He shrugged. "Sure, why not."

"Because it's insane, John," Fin said, scowling over his shoulder. "The man's a rapist. End of story." Munch laughed, a rough, caustic sound.

"Oh, come on, you've met one of my ex-wives. Don't tell me you don't believe in witches." Fin didn't respond. The door opened and Stabler, Sledge, Olivia, Dr. Huang and Cragen filed in. The Captain looked around at each before speaking.

"Not a word of this goes past us," he said finally. "If the press gets even a hint that we're entertaining this notion, let alone actively investigating it - " He rubbed a weary hand over his face. "Let's just say that meter-maids will have more authority than we will." He left without another word. Alex wandered over next to Sledge.

"You don't have to stay," she told him. "Stabler and Tutuola are... skeptical. I can't say I blame them, and I wouldn't blame you, either, if you couldn't believe me." He rubbed the side of his jaw, his eyes moving to the two-way mirror, finding Bobby. She wouldn't have been surprised to have him join the disbelievers; he and Bobby had nearly come to blows less than a week after his transfer in. He sighed.

"I once saw a Hopi medicine man turn himself into a coyote," he said quietly. "It's why I left Arizona. So, yeah, I can believe it. I don't like it, but I believe it."

"Hey, Alex." She turned at the sound of Olivia's voice. Bobby had closed the file and left the chair. He was pacing again, his right arm held tight across his stomach, his big hand cupping the left elbow, his left hand curled into a loose fist and pressed against his lips. He started to gesture, to speak. Sledge, who was nearest the intercom box, flipped the switch.

" - a relief," he was saying, his strong voice thin and staticky through the box. "I mean, the prognosis isn't... good, but better than the al... alternative, better than going crazy. At least, by morning this will all be... over." Alex couldn't contain the strangled gasp that echoed like a gunshot in the silent room. All eyes turned to her.

"What's he talkin' about?" Fin asked.

"I suspect the others in there with you will want to know what I'm talking about," he said with a hint of his old quirky smile. He couldn't have heard Fin. "Let's see, Detectives Benson and... and Stabler will be there. He wants to see me... hang, her too, probably, although... she did touch me, so you may have persuaded her to your side.

"Dr. Huang should... should be there. You're good, by the way, Doctor. You nearly had me for a moment. You won't believe - Can't. You can't... believe, not something like this. It's easier to believe I raped those women that to believe this." Alex glanced back at Dr. Huang. He crossed his arms over his chest, but the schooled expression on his face never changed.

"Did I get then all, Eames? No, I forgot one," Bobby continued, his gestures becoming noticeably more animated. "Detective Sledge. Your new partner. The brightest... smile Major Case has to offer. I'm sure you'd agree, wouldn't you, Eames? Good looking guy like that, must be rough to have as a partner, having to look at that all day. Hmm, Alex?" Alex closed her eyes, as if she could will the pain out of his voice.

"It's the curse; he doesn't mean what he's saying," she said with a sigh, stepping up to the glass and pressing her palm flat against it. Bobby couldn't see her, of course, but his pacing brought him closer, almost as if he could feel her. He kept his eyes downcast, avoiding his reflection. Seeing him like that made her hurt. She didn't know what to do, so she focused on what she did know. "Typically, an incubus is a demon that feeds on the sexual energy of it's victim," she said. "Once the demon is sated, it becomes dormant, harmless until the need rises again. Bobby's not a demon, he's cursed, but the same need drives him, and if it's not met, it will become agonizingly painful." She watched the small lines around his eyes deepen, the color drain from his lips as he pressed them together. He was feeling it already. "Unless the curse is sated, he will be in pain until sunrise... and then he will die."

"By morning it will all be over," Fin repeated in his low, deadpan voice. "He's given up."

"He's also distancing himself," Dr. Huang said from behind them. "That's why he insulted Detective Sledge, why he lashed out at Eames. He's trying to make the ultimate separation less painful."

"There had to be something we can do," Olivia said. "We can't just let him die."

"Here's an idea," Munch said, leaning against the wall next to the mirror. "There's some working girls down in lockup. For a 'get out of jail free' card, they'd probably do just about anything."

"Absolutely not," Alex said, shooting him a dark look. He just shrugged and walked away. She leaned her forehead against the glass again. There had to be something they could do, besides throwing hookers at him.


	7. Chapter 7

Alex stiffened as Bobby stumbled sideways, catching himself on the table, and collapsed into the chair. He bent nearly double, his head bowed so far under she could only see the back of it. The silence in the room was palpable as every ear strained to catch a sound no one wanted to hear. Alex jumped as a sharp hiss crackled through the old speaker. Bobby drew another pained breath through his teeth and Alex headed for the door. She didn't know what she could do, but she wasn't about to stand there and watch him suffer. Sledge grabbed her before she made it halfway across the room. Munch even moved to block the door.

"Sorry, Eames, but we can't let you," Sledge said. "You know what will happen if you go into that room." Alex jerked her arm out of his hands.

"I'm not going in there," she snapped, "but I'm also not going to stand here and watch him die." She pushed past Munch and stalked up the hall. Olivia quickly caught up with her.

"What have you got in mind?" she asked. Alex glanced back. Everyone but Stabler and Huang were following them.

"Research," Alex said around the lump forming in her throat. She'd never had so many people backing her before. Usually, Bobby was enough. Only he wasn't there. She shook her head before she let the sentiment go any further. Now was not the time. "We need to know all there is to know about this curse, about witchcraft, about the witch who could have done this. I want details, I want suspects, and I want the counter-curse." And I want my partner back! she added silently. She turned to Olivia. "Where's Bobby's cell phone? I need to be able to talk to him."

* * *

Alex hung up her phone for the third time. Bobby wasn't answering. She stormed into the observation room, Stabler and Huang stepping back from the fury of her entrance. She stood at the glass and dialed his number again. He just stared at the phone while the simple tone bled through the speaker.

"If you don't want to talk to her," Munch said, leaning against the wall beside Bobby, his hands tucked in his pockets, "I'd love to. Does she like Thai food?" He reached for the phone on the table. Bobby knocked his hand away. "Then answer it," Munch said, and walked out. Dr. Huang went to have a word with him. Alex let the phone ring one more time.

"Damn it, Bobby, answer the phone!" she shouted, slamming the heel of her hand against the glass. She didn't know if he heard the thud or just saw the mirror tremble, but Bobby looked her way, his dark eyes seeming to pierce right though her. After a moment he looked away, but picked up the phone.

"Goren," he answered, just like he would had they been out working a case.

"Hey, Bobby," she said, suddenly at a loss for words. "How are you doing?" One of his shy smiles crept into his face and he shook his head.

"It hurts, Eames, it hurts a lot," he said, his words made no lighter by his cheerful tone. "All the time, there's this dull... ache under my skin, this hunger gnawing at me, and every now and then, it's like... like my whole body's on fire. I think that's happening more frequently, too. How are you?" She almost hung up, it hurt so much to hear him like that.

"I'm doing all I can, Bobby," she said. "I've got Benson and Munch and Sledge, everybody's trying to find a way to fix you." He gave a sharp bark of laughter.

"And what does the NYPD know about curses? Since when have we investigated the... supernatural? Who's the res - resident witch hunter here?" Alex couldn't stop a tear from trickling down her cheek. She wiped it away before Stabler could notice. Bobby stood up and came over to the mirror. She had to step back to see his face without getting a crick in her neck. "They won't find anything," he whispered though the phone. "You need to get far away before it's too late."

"Never," she whispered back, reaching out, trying to touch him through the glass, "I'll never leave you." He gasped suddenly, his face contorting as the phone slipped from his fingers. He fell against the mirror, a distant, strangled scream issuing from her phone and the intercom. She could almost hear it through the wall.

A wave of heat shoved her backward, like the shockwave of an explosion, but there had been no bomb. A second later, the second wave hit her, and she stumbled forward, falling to her knees against the wall. He was right on the other side. She could feel his presence as if she was touching him, smell him as if he was beside her, hear the beat of his heart as if they were one.

A hand touched her shoulder. She looked up into Stabler's face. Something gripped her deep inside. His face tensed, his eyes afraid as she reached for him. He fell to the floor beside her, his hands moving over her face, down her back, trying to slide under her jacket. She pawed at the buttons on his shirt as he tried to climb on top of her. Through the phone, Bobby screamed again, then was silent, the only sound her own thudding heart.

Stabler scrambled back, his breathing rough and ragged, his flushed face quickly draining of all color. Without a word, they climbed to their feet and put their clothes back in order. Alex picked her phone back up.

"Bobby, are you still there?" she asked. She couldn't see him through the glass, but she could still feel him, sitting on the floor beneath the mirror, his presence bleeding through the wall.

"I'm still here, Eames," he said. He sounded so tired. "Does he believe now - Stabler... does he believe?" Alex leaned her forehead against the glass and looked down on him, one arm resting across his bent knees.

"How - "

"I could feel the two of you," he replied. "This thing in... inside me, felt you, and him, and what you were doing... what you almost did. It's hungry, and it's only going to get worse. You need to - "

"Bobby, I have to go," she said and hung up. She turned to Stabler. "So, is this line of crap any easier to swallow now?"

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.


	8. Chapter 8

She had them all gathered in the squad room, everyone that knew. Everyone else had been evacuated. Terrorist drill, Cragen said. No one bought it, but they went anyway. Stabler stared down anyone ballsy enough to glance his way while Alex described what had happened in the observation room. When she was finished, any lingering doubts were gone. Even Fin seemed willing to believe.

"This happened at a quarter to nine," she said. "Just before that, Bobby told me that these attacks were becoming more frequent. More frequent and of greater intensity suggests an exponential growth rate." She made eye contact with each to make sure they were following her. "If that is the case, then before this finally kills him - " She cleared her throat as the words caught, threatened to choke her. " - it's going to affect all of Manhattan, and possibly most of the greater New York area."

"It'll be like dropping a sex bomb in the city," Fin said, summing it up quite succinctly.

"Spring Break, Mardi Gras and New Year's all rolled into one," Munch said, his thin hands smoothing the front of his dark blue shirt. He leaned toward Alex. "I'll meet you in the utility closet just before dawn. You guy's aren't invited," he said to the rest of the group.

"We're crushed," Fin said, shooting his partner a dirty look. "So, what are we doing about this? We can't evacuate the whole city."

"We could try moving him," Stabler suggested. "Take him some place less populated."

"Kind of risky, isn't it?" Olivia said. "I mean, if he has another of those attacks during transport, innocent people on the streets are going to be ... effected, not to mention whoever draws the short straw and has to drive him."

"She's right," Alex said, rubbing her forehead. "Besides, we can't just drive him to the middle of nowhere and leave him to die. There has to be another option."

"We could kill him," Fin said. "Quick, painless. Nobody else gets hurt."

"That is _not_ an option," Alex said, her clenched fists shaking as she glanced at the other detectives, daring them to agree with Fin.

"It's an observation, that's all," Fin said, but he didn't take it back. Alex walked away from the group, dropping into the chair she'd borrowed from Olivia and pounding away on her laptop again. There had to be something she'd missed, some clue, some answer, something ... anything. Because as the night wore on, and as the curse grew in ferocity, one by one they would begin to see the merits of Fin's suggestion.

"What have we got on Nichole Wallace?" she asked, skimming over a web page she'd read twice already. "And don't tell me she's dead," she muttered, mostly to herself. "Evil never dies."

"She's completely off the grid," Stabler said. "If she's alive, she's not on this planet." The group broke up and went back to work. He wandered over and took a seat at the desk across from her. "Look, about what happened - "

"Save your breath, Detective," she said bluntly. "We both know it meant nothing. Everyone else will understand sooner or later, I'm afraid." Stabler was silent for a moment.

"Well, as long we're both clear."

"Crystal," she replied, eyes fixed on her screen as he walked away. She had found a long essay on the mythology of the incubus, but God only knew how much of it was true. She sorted it as she went; true, false, and that which she could not prove either way.

According to some myths, incubi could only ravish sleeping women, as they had no form or substance otherwise. In Bobby's case, false. Victims were compelled to participate against their will. True. Incubi possessed abnormal sexual organs, most common being disproportionately large members, a cold stone or metal feel, or a forked head. None of the three women had mentioned anything like that in their reports, so she'd say false, although she really didn't want to know.

One myth called incubi sexual vampires, as they drained their victims of sexual energy until all that remained was a empty, passionless husk that would never again feel sexual desire for as long as they lived. This only occurred after multiple encounters, so she had to file that away in the unknown category. Only the energy of another being, typically a woman, could sate the incubus for any length of time. That was just about the only fact that appeared in every account, so she'd give a tentative true.

Near the end she found some made-up fairy tale crap about how love was the only force strong enough to combat the incubus' lust, but that it only served as a shield and did nothing to cure the curse itself. Obviously false. Same with the part about love's first kiss being able to break the enchantment. This wasn't Sleeping Beauty, for crying out loud. She looked up as Munch leaned against the edge of her desk.

"You know," he said, "we're looking for the big fix to this problem. Maybe what we need right now is a band-aid. If the curse can be sated, it'd buy us some time."

"I said no to the prostitutes," Alex reminded him.

"Of course, that was a bad idea the first time," he said with a shrug. "They've all been sent uptown anyway. I was thinking maybe - " He had the grace to look embarrassed. " - self-service."

"It's not the same," she said, shaking her head.

"You're telling me," Munch muttered.

"The incubus feeds off it's victim," she explained, reading off the screen what she already knew just to hide the smile that played over her lips. "It's the other person's energy that it needs."

"That explains why your partner left the party early," Fin said, leaning back in his chair to that their heads were almost even. He was sitting behind and to the right of her. "Once the curse was subdued, he was able to get control of himself and stop."

"The man must have an iron will," Sledge said from a desk across the room.

"Or ice water in his veins," Munch suggested. He pushed away from the desk and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Anyway, if the hookers are still out - " Alex shot him a look that clearly said that the topic was closed. " - then I suggest somebody go in there and take one for the team." He let the stunned silence reverberate for a second. "If something isn't done soon, this room's going to get really uncomfortable, really fast. I'll leave you to draw straws; I have to go meet with a possible contact." He turned and walked out.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	9. Chapter 9

"He has a point," Alex said after a very long, silent moment.

"I ain't drawin' straws," Fin said, scowling at her. She shook her head.

"No, about this room. Can't you feel it already, like the weight of a thunderstorm about to break?" Olivia nodded slowly. Stabler shuddered. Alex took a deep breath. "Is there someplace in the building that's more secure, more ... private, that we could move him to?"

"Lockup's empty," Stabler suggested. "The beds aren't great, but the plumbing works."

"Yeah, and the last cell is about as far from here as you can get without leaving the building," Fin said. After silently closing her laptop, Alex stood up and stepped away from the desk. Her stomach was doing flip-flops.

"Monitored by cameras?" she asked. Olivia nodded. "I want them turned off. And I need about ten feet of stout cord or rope, two or three blankets and a handful of safety pins." Everyone stared at her for a moment, and she couldn't figure out why they looked like she was on death row. It was her job to protect people, and that included everyone in this room, and especially the man down the hall. She knew without a doubt that Bobby would give his life to protect her; what she would give was not nearly as great a sacrifice.

The three SVU detectives headed off in different directions to scrounge up her supplies, leaving her alone with Sledge. Captain Cragen and Dr. Huang were still cloistered in the Captain's office, making phone calls. She sank back into her empty chair, closing her eyes as she buried her face in her hands.

Bobby was not going to like this. With him, she always felt like a partner, a best friend, an anchor, a sister, a buddy, but never like a woman, not that way. Sometimes, when they were playing their games, setting up the suspects, it felt different. A look in his eye, a touch of his hand, a tone in his voice, but it was just part of the game. It had to look real to fool their quarry. She'd never admit that, for the length of a heartbeat, she was sometimes fooled as well.

She opened her eyes to find a pair of shiny black shoes standing just to her left.

"Do you always take this good a care of your partners?" Alex stood up and pushed past him.

"Don't even start, Sledge," she said, stalking over to Stabler's desk and riffling through the stack of files on it. Sledge stepped up behind her and reached around her arm, placing his hand flat on the pile of files. It was so like something Bobby would do that she had to look up and make sure it wasn't him. It wasn't.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's not like me to joke like that. I came over to tell you that ... after this is over, if you find yourself without a partner, I'll work a case with you anytime."

"Thank you, but I'm not going to let him die."

"I know, but - " He seemed to choosing his words very carefully. Maybe that was just him. " - if this ordeal changes things, and the two of you _can't_ be partners - "

"What are you saying?" She turned to face him, still partially encircled by his arm.

"I got the - " Olivia stopped a few feet into the room, a stack of neatly folded gray blankets in her arms. Her eyes moved back and forth between them, hardly a great distance. "Everything okay in here?"

"Fine," Alex said, taking a step backward. Sledge did the same. "We were just talking." Olivia finished the walk across the squad room and deposited her load on an empty desk.

"Even so, it might be a good idea to keep a safe distance whenever possible. You never know when ..." She didn't need to finish the sentence. Alex and Sledge exchanged glances and moved to opposite sides of the room.

Stabler came in trailing an orange extension cord.

"This is the best I could do," he said. "You'd think a squad dealing with sex crimes would have more rope lying around." He frowned, as if he didn't like what he just said, and shook his head. Olivia shot her a curious look, but then Fin came in, carrying a medium-sized cardboard box.

"Couldn't find no safety pins," he said, setting the box on the desk beside the blankets. "Wasn't sure what you'd want instead, so I brought thumb tacks, straight pins, staples, rubber bands and duct tape."

"Sounds like a party to me," Stabler said, and then frowned again.

"Detective Stabler, why don't you go outside and get some air," Alex suggested.

"I think ... I will," he said, heading for the door. Alex walked over and pulled the duct tape out of the box.

"He's not usually like that, I take it?" she asked, taking out a box of straight pins as an after-thought.

"To Elliot, innuendo is a four letter word," Olivia said, leaning closer so Fin and Sledge wouldn't overhear. "I think the incubus is having a bad effect on our men." Alex glanced up at her, and then quickly away.

"I think it's dragging all out minds down into the gutter," she said, taking the top blanket off the stack. She looked at Sledge, and then at Fin, both of whom were watching the two women with undivided attention. Alex cleared her throat, making them all jump. "Let's do this before things get worse, shall we?"

They moved a pair of desks to one side and spread the first blanket on the floor. The extension cord was laid along one side, about four inches from the edge. The material was folded over and pinned in place, then duct taped to prevent the pins from sliding out. _Voila_, instant curtain. The other two blankets were strung alongside the first. Stabler returned just as they smoothed down the last piece of tape.

"It's like walking into a cloud of insects," he said. "The energy in this room just beats at you."

"Feeling better?" Olivia asked with a small smile.

"Yeah, I am," he said with a crooked grin. Alex rolled her eyes and turned away. No attraction, my ass, she thought as she gathered up the heavy curtains. It didn't take a detective to notice the chemistry between them. Then again, she might be seeing things that weren't there, thanks to the curse.

"Okay, I'm going to need a hand hanging these," Alex said, hefting the curtains onto her shoulder. "Any volunteers?"

"I'll help," Fin said as he and Sledge stepped forward. They shot each other dirty looks.

"Gee, thanks guys," she said, "but I think Detective Benson and I can handle it."

"Can I watch?" Sledge asked.

"Detective Stabler?" Alex asked. He stepped forward and gestured toward the door.

"C'mon, you two, outside," he ordered. They left reluctantly, casting hungry glances back over their shoulders. Alex sighed in relief, glad that the guys were gone, and for more reasons than one.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	10. Chapter 10

One at a time, she and Olivia traversed the hallway outside the room Bobby was in. It was like walking into a gale-force wind that teased and caressed places the wind was never supposed to touch. Alex had to dig her fingernails into the palm of her hand to keep from breaking down the door. She emerged weak and breathless on the other side.

"It's definitely getting worse," Olivia observed. Alex glanced at her watch; nine twenty, almost forty minutes since she'd hung up on him. What must he be thinking? That they'd given up, abandoned him, left him to die - She jumped as Olivia gently touched her shoulder. "It's this way," she said, nodding her head to the right.

The farther down the corridor they went, the easier it became to breathe. Once they passed through the last metal door and stepped into lockup, the curse was barely more than a whisper on the back of Alex's neck. Standing on chairs, she and Olivia hung the curtain at the end of the corridor, giving at least the semblance of privacy. When that was finished, Alex's eyes swept along the wall near the ceiling.

"Are these the only two cameras?" she asked. Olivia nodded. She dragged a chair over and climbed up, unplugging the camera from the feed wire. "There." She climbed down and looked around, trying to foresee any possible hang-ups. As long as Bobby wasn't too ... Bobby, everything should go as well as it could, under the circumstances.

"You know," Olivia said hesitantly, "maybe you should let me do this." Alex raised her eyebrows. "Don't misunderstand, I really don't want to. The thought makes my skin crawl - "

"He's not an ogre," Alex hissed between her teeth. Olivia shook her head.

"That's not what I meant. I meant the incubus, the curse, not Goren. I meant being powerless against it."

"Then why would you offer?"

"Because, you have your partnership to consider, your friendship. That could be destroyed if you have sex with him."

"But ..." Alex sputtered, "but it's not like - "

"I know, you're doing it to save his life, but you need to realize that it could kill your relationship." She was right, and it wasn't fair. Alex's eyes strayed to the cell they'd prepared, the clean blankets on the narrow, hard cot, and winced at the image of her and Bobby sharing the most intimate of moments with their eyes closed and faces averted.

"I can't ask you to do this," Alex said after a moment. "I can't ... _let_ you do it. Or anyone else. He's _my_ partner." She glanced at Olivia, not sure how she could better explain herself. This was something _she_ had to do. The taller woman nodded slowly. She understood. Alex sighed. "Come on, I need one last favor from you."

"Oh?"

"I need you to explain this to Bobby. I can't, he knows me too well; he'd know instantly that something was going on."

"And you think I can keep this from him? How?"

"You're going to lie."

* * *

Alex finished changing and cinched tight the belt of her long, black coat. Her clothes were neatly folded in a brown paper bag in the corner of the women's restroom. She stood just inside the door and waited for Olivia to make the call.

"Hello, Detective Goren? It's Olivia Benson ... I'm fine, thank you for asking. Listen, we were thinking that perhaps you'd be more comfortable in a - a holding cell. It sounds horrible, but there's a bed and running water ..." She was silent for a while. "You're right, it is effecting us, but it's not your faul - Alex? She's in the ladies room. Well, how do you think she's doing? This is killing her ... You know what I meant, Detective Goren ... All right; Bobby." Alex heard her sigh. "Yes, we're all going to leave the building, and once you get to your new room ... okay, cell, you call and we'll come back in. Yes, when you leave the room you're in, go left, then right. There's a heavy metal door. Go through it and we've made up the last cell on the right for you. It's not exactly home, but ... No, I haven't seen your apartment," she said with a laugh. The laugh trailed off and died. "I - I suppose I would ... Now stop that, Bobby. You're not going to die. We're really close on this - " Alex eased the door open a bit further and leaned out. As she watched, Olivia reached up and wiped a tear off her cheek with the back of her hand. " - It shouldn't be much longer at all ... Yeah, you caught me again. Must be why they made you a detective ... Yeah. Five minutes. Bye." She hung up the phone. The room was completely silent.

"All right everybody," Alex said as she stepped out of the bathroom, "outside. We don't need an incident here." She'd noticed that the more upset she got, the more like a hard-ass she sounded. Tonight was no exception. She was the last to file out, casting one lingering look around the room while Captain Cragen held the door for her.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	11. Chapter 11

It was almost ten. The night air swirled around Alex's bare legs, the hem of her coat slapping against the backs of her knees. She shivered and tried to pretend that it was just the cold.

"That was clever," Olivia said softly, stepping up beside Alex. "How did you know he wouldn't see through both lies?"

"If he'd been in top form, he would have. I counted on the curse as a distraction."

"It worked." She was silent a moment. "Bobby is ... He's ..." She struggled to find the words.

"I know," Alex said with a smile. She'd been searching for the same words for as long as she'd known him. She was no closer to finding them now as when they first met. The phone rang and she jumped. She barely heard Olivia answer over the pounding of her heart. She needed a drink.

"Hey," Olivia said, nudging her with an elbow, "you okay?" Alex nodded. She couldn't bring herself to look at anyone as she started the long walk back into the building, but she could hear them behind her, blocking her escape route - No, she wouldn't think like that. They were her honor guard, her backup, her friends. She lifted her chin slightly and tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. It didn't work. If she wasn't careful, she was going to cry, and she didn't want to go to Bobby in tears. It would crush him.

She left her compatriots in the squad room and continued on alone. The hallway was quiet and empty, but as she drew near the first junction, the fringe energy of the curse washed over her. Gritting her teeth, she waded in, pausing outside the metal door. The power of the incubus enveloped her, but she was still in control, she could still turn back. Once she passed the door, though, that would be it, the point of no return. She kicked off her shoes and pulled the door open.

Her bare feet made almost no sound on the cold cement floor, but she didn't think it was a sound that gave her away.

"Who's there?" Bobby asked, his voice rough, husky with pain. "Eames, is that - It is you." She was still several cells away, and hidden by the curtain. "What are you doing here?" She didn't answer; she didn't trust her voice not to shake. "Eames? Alex?" He sounded close to panic. She swallowed hard and stepped through the gap in the curtain, pulling it closed behind her.

Bobby stood pressed against the bars of the cell, his big hands white knuckled as he clung for dear life. At the sight of her, he drew back, moving silently to the farthest corner of the eight by ten room. She knew she looked like a cliché from a bad porno movie; barefoot in her coat, chest heaving as she leaned against the bars of the prisoner's cell - not that she had that much to heave. She just couldn't catch her breath.

She felt cold steel against the side of her face before she realized she'd moved against the bars. Just one more minute, she silently pleaded. She felt like a sand castle, wave after wave stealing the beach right out from under her, tearing her down until she was swept away, helpless, at the mercy of a power greater than any she'd ever known.

She found Bobby's dark brown eyes, shadowed and afraid, and pulled herself together. With him as her beacon, she could stand against anything. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the key to the cell door. Her hand was shaking. On the second try, she managed to slide the key into the lock. "Don't, Alex, please," Bobby whispered. She cleared her throat.

"We still haven't figured this out," she said. "But you know that; you spoke with Olivia. We may not figure it out tonight, not before dawn, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you die." She paused to catch her breath. "Besides, New York City has enough problems without turning into an eight million person orgy." She swung the door open and stepped inside.

Bobby took a step toward her, his movements stiff, disjointed, not the fluid, awkward grace he normally used to dance around the interrogation room. It was as if he were fighting against his own body.

"So, you're buying time, eh, Eames?" he said, giving her a cockeyed glance. "Who's idea was that? Stabler's"

"Munch's," she said.

"Ah. Not ... not yours. So what, you drew the short straw? You and Benson do rock, paper, scissors? Flip a ... coin?" He started to take another step toward her, but somehow managed to move sideways instead. "Or did you volunteer out of some sense of duty ... responsibility? Just another Bobby Goren mess you have to clean up? If so, I ... I appreciate the loyalty, but honestly, I'd have rather you flipped a coin. Then I'd have at least a fifty-fifty shot at it not being ... you."

Everyone who had ever seen Bobby talk a confession out of a suspect had later told her they never wanted to have Robert Goren mad at them. Now she'd have to hunt them all down and tell them that it was worse than they could ever have imagined. If she could have moved, she would have run away in tears. But then, that was what he wanted.

"You'd pick Benson over me?" Alex asked, raising one eyebrow. He wasn't the only one who could play this game, even if he had invented the rules. It was easy, just line up your target in you sights, squeeze the trigger - you either hit or miss - and then wait for the next one aimed at you. Nine millimeter table tennis.

"In a heartbeat," he said, looking more uncomfortable as he tried to pace and couldn't. He kept veering toward her. "I'd f - " He couldn't say it, he never could. "I'd pick anyone over you."

"Oh, it's too bad then that Olivia said - What did she say, that the thought made her skin crawl? Something like that." She scored a hit with that one; she could see it in his eyes. "Detective Tutuola suggested we just put a bullet in your skull and call it a night, so don't assume you know what this visit means."

"So you've come to put Old Yeller down yourself? Somehow I doubt you've got your weapon hidden under that coat. I bet old Sledge was all for a little justifiable homicide, wasn't he?"

"Didn't ask."

"That wouldn't be so bad, would it Eames ... having him for a partner? I hear he even knows which end of the gun the little hard things come out of. Now why don't you go back to your new friends and just wait this out. Might even be fun, don't you think?"

"Munch already asked that I save the last dance for him. He reserved us a nice utility closet to retire to just before dawn."

"And just think, if you get pregnant, they might even let you keep this one." Alex stared at him in stunned silence, her whole body cold. Carrying her sister and brother-in-law's child, her own nephew, had been the most amazing experience of her entire life, but it had left her with an empty place, a hole in her life, made so much more obvious by the tiny soul that had temporarily filled it - and he knew it. He'd been the only one to whom she'd confessed.

When she didn't return his volley he glanced at her. She wasn't as good at the game as he was; she couldn't hide the tears that cut a thin, cold line down her cheeks. She watched the realization dawn in his face, the knowledge that he had scored a mortal wound. He sank to his knees.

"Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry," he said. "I just - I - I just wanted you to leave before it was too late, be ... before you looked at me the way they did."

"They were scared, Bobby, they didn't understand. I do." Before she could reconsider, before he could pull away, she reached out and touched his cheek, his stubble coarse beneath her fingertips. His eyes widened in surprise as the curse crashed down upon them both.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note - I've decided that one chapter is not enough to warrant changing this entire story's rating, so I'm including this warning instead - **The next chapter, Ch. 13, may be unsuitable for younger readers** - It's hardly pornographic, but it would probably be a solid R (or M) rating. It's only one chapter, so if you're easily offended, just skip it. It's not totally gratutitous, but you can probably follow the story without it.

On a personal note, thank you so much for all the reviews! It's really encouraging to get so many high-quality reviews that obviously had some time and thought put into them.

* * *

She fought it, beating against the inside of her skin like a bird in a window, but it was no use; her body would not obey. She watched in a kind of morbid fascination as her hands wound themselves into his hair. It was like the first crime scene she and Bobby worked together, the body of a rich banker, Gerald Nelson, discovered in one of the wilder parts of Central Park. He'd been dead for almost two weeks, and the animals had been at him. She still remembered the exact color of his flesh, the way the insects squirmed inside the chest cavity, the pale cherry blossoms collected in the slit that ran from ear to ear across his throat. Part of her wanted to be sick, to turn away and pretend that such horrors were the stuff of nightmares, but the cop in her, the detective, couldn't look away.

The incubus drew them together, each breath from his lips a feather-light kiss on the V of skin beneath her throat that the coat didn't cover. His large, strong hands fumbled at her belt and she felt the material loosening, sliding apart. She could hear her own voice, scared, small, screaming inside her, 'No, please don't - Stop!', but she bit her tongue to keep silent.

His breath warmed the tops of her breasts as the coat fell open, then slithered off her shoulders to pool around her feet. She shivered, and prayed that he wouldn't notice. Not likely. Bobby noticed everything.

When Bobby had squatted next to the corpse of Mr. Nelson, he pointed out the different bite patterns; dog, fox, rat, crow, noted the pale band of skin on the left hand denoting a missing wedding ring, detected the faint odor of French perfume on the suit jacket.

This wasn't a crime scene, though. Would he notice the scent of her lavender body lotion? The color of her pale blue bra and panties? The soft curves that she hadn't quite managed to work off since her pregnancy? Probably not. His eyes were closed.

Alex stared down at her partner's head, her hands still mindlessly combing through his dark, not quiet graying hair. It was very soft. Was that natural, or did he use conditioner? Natural, she decided. He wouldn't have wasted time on superfluous hair products.

She gasped as his hands found the clasp of her bra. It was the sudden jolt of coming back from her wandering thoughts that surprised her, not what he was doing, but he didn't know that.

"I'm sorry, Eames," he said, his whole body trembling. "It's too strong, I can't - I can't fight it much longer."

"Then stop fighting. Let's just get this over with." The words were barely said before she regretted saying them. They hung heavy in the quiet, echoing in each pained breath he took. "Look, Bobby, I - "

"No, you're right, Eames," he said, and she winced at the crisp edge in his voice. "Why fight the inevitable? I'm sure you've got better things to do."

He stopped fighting.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note - **Content warning** - This chapter contains material of a sexual nature not consistant with the story's rating. If you are easily offended, you probably wouldn't be reading this story anyway, but consider yourself warned.

* * *

Alex had never been sucked into the funnel cloud of a tornado, so she didn't know exactly what that would be like, but she didn't think it could possibly compare to this. Perhaps if the tornado were made from pure lust, pure sex, pure raging, aching physical need, but only then. For a moment she couldn't even breathe.

Her back hit the cold stone wall and she gasped, greedily drawing each breath as if air alone could quench the fire raging inside her, but it only fanned the flames. Her eyes didn't want to focus; they kept trying to roll back into her head, but she forced herself to concentrate, the detective taking over and analyzing a situation the woman couldn't control.

Cold cinder block wall, smooth painted surface behind her. Smooth, hot wall of flesh in front of her - His shirt was gone. When had that happened? - feverishly hot and damp with sweat. Breath on her hair, hands on her hips, coarse cloth beneath her fingers, denim, jeans, sharp teeth of the zipper - What the hell was she doing! Her hand found the satin hardness of him and his whole body tensed, his breath catching in his throat.

"_No_," he growled, a bass rumble deep in his chest. The cell wall burned against her back as he lifted her off her feet, his hands hot against the backs of her thighs. Her body cooperated willingly, gripping his waist with her knees, drawing him closer, trying to satisfy that ache for his flesh.

He stopped her, his fingers digging into her thighs hard enough that she knew she'd be bruised in the morning. A tortured moan rose up in his chest, but never made it past his lips as he trembled in her arms. Alex stared over his shoulder, his sandpaper cheek resting against the side of her neck, and choked down a sob as she realized what he was doing. Drawing on every ounce of willpower she had left, she pulled back just enough to turn her head and whisper in his ear.

"It's okay, Bobby," she told him, "I won't break." For a moment, he was utterly still, then his hands slowly relaxed. A shudder ran though his body as he finally surrendered.

Alex bit her lip as they came together, hardly daring to breathe lest she let slip some tiny sound, some hint of her discomfort. She was petite, as the rest of the detectives in her squad were always pointing out - a big attitude in a little package. Bobby wasn't. His package was no less than you'd expect from a man who stood nearly six foot four and wore a size thirteen shoe, and it hurt. He had to know, but she gave no sign as he slowly moved inside her.

The incubus teased though her body, the pain easing and desire taking its place. She accepted him, all of him, and the world seemed to hold it's breath as he stood motionless, buried inside her. For a second, she forgot the pain and the sadness, the implications and the consequences, forgot all the crap that came before and was sure to come after, and just let herself feel whole, complete, safe.

The moment passed and the nightmare returned as the incubus, apparently tired of playing games, drew a low, desperate moan from each of them. They found their rhythm, moving as one in long, slow strokes. Like winding a spring, every time they came together, something tightened inside her, but not enough, never enough, forcing her accept him again, and again.

She closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of the pitted gray walls, the gleaming steel bars, the harsh fluorescent light bleeding the color out of an already colorless room. She should have turned out the lights at least - maybe lit a few candles. She wished she could have taken him back to her place, or even to his, anywhere but here. They could have done this in the shower, with the water cascading over their bodies.

She'd decided long ago that before she died, she would make love to man beneath a tropical waterfall, in some forgotten grotto, on some uncharted island. It was one of those irrational decisions made over a cheap bottle of wine, the kind you share with your Academy buddies, but not your sister, not your friends, not your partner. The image still lingered, though; the waterfall, the grotto, the island. It was to this paradise that she took them now, with the sunlight filtering down through the leaves, reflecting on the pool and dancing over the sheer cliff rising above them. She leaned back against the cliff, watching the shifting patterns of leaf and sky as Bobby gently laid kisses along her collar bone, up her neck, along her jaw.

Under the waterfall, he would touch her face and look in her eyes, speaking her name softly in that rich and resonating voice of his, watching as the heat filled her eyes, colored her cheeks, quickened her breath. He would smile as he coaxed small sounds from her, the ones she tried so hard to keep inside -

The sound of her own voice, hollow and echoing, stole her away from her paradise, thrusting her back into gritty reality as another tremulous wave rocked her body, trying to draw another gasping cry from her. This one she held inside. She wasn't standing under a waterfall, after all.

The incubus roiled around them, picking at the small shivers of pleasure that radiated from her, but it's hunger would not be satisfied with anything less than an orgasm. Neither would hers.

Bobby was fighting again, his face turned completely away from her, gasping for air as he struggled with himself. She couldn't understand why; another minute and this would all be over. He was almost as close as she was, she could feel the urgency in his body, the tightness across his shoulders, the pounding of his heart. So close, they were so close.

The orgasm shuddered through her, prickling the skin along her scalp, raising the hair on her arms. She rode one, two, three waves in silence, her chest and throat tight as she buried her cries deep within herself. Bobby moaned as the incubus, sated at last, dissolved around them.

Alex had a split second to realize that she was again in control of her body before she was pushed away, her bare feet hitting the cold floor with a stinging slap. Her knees nearly buckled, her legs both weak and sore, and she leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to figure out what had happened.

Bobby had staggered to the opposite corner, holding his jeans up with one hand and hiding his face with the other. He stood, head bowed, with his back to her, his skin glistening with sweat and marred by several sets of fingernail marks. Fresh blood trickled from scratches on his right shoulder. In the silent aftermath, should hear him softly muttering to himself as his breathing returned to normal.

She shivered, and the chill woke her up. Turning away from Bobby, she gathered her underwear and coat up off the floor. The coat she slipped on, cinching the belt as tight as she could and still breathe. The underwear she slipped into the coat pockets. She needed to wash, but not here. Standing at the front of the cell, she leaned her head against the bars and listened to Bobby clean himself up, muttering all the while. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but she had the feeling that she didn't want to know.

Across the room, Bobby's cell phone rang, making her jump. She glanced over her shoulder, at the phone on the bed, and then at Bobby. He looked at it, then turned away. Irritation flared through her and she stalked across the cell, snatched up the phone and answered.

"Eames," she said, watching out of the corner of her eye as her partner dabbed at the bloody scratches on his shoulder.

"Alex, it's Olivia." She sounded hesitant. "I'm not ... interrupting ...?"

"No, it's okay, " Alex told her. "It's been dealt with." She'd picked her cold words carefully, watching Bobby for any kind of reaction, but he didn't even appear to have heard her. Too busy licking his wounds and wallowing in self-pity. She turned away in disgust. "What's up?"

"John's back, and if you think Bobby's up to it, the two of you have got to hear what he found out."

"He's found a cure?"

"Maybe," Olivia said after a brief pause. "It's ... Well, I don't understand it, but he says there's a chance ..."

"We'll be right there." She hung up and stared at the wall a moment. A cure, a solution, an end to this nightmare. Now, if she could just get Bobby to give a damn. No, that wasn't fair. He had to be feeling six shades of horrible right now, and she was letting her own selfish needs get in the way of seeing that. This wasn't about her.

She turned to find him standing beside the cell door, the usual thoughtful look in his eyes even as he finished buttoning his shirt. Looking at him, she never would have guessed he'd just finished screwing someone. Except that he hadn't finished, he'd stopped, exerting a control she'd glimpsed in the interrogation room, but hadn't fully appreciated before. But why - Bobby cleared his throat. He arched an eyebrow at her.

"So, what have your friends found out?" he asked. "Is there any ... hope?"

"There's always hope," she murmured before she could stop herself. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, tossing her sweat-damp hair out of her eyes. "Detective Munch wants to talk to us."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	14. Chapter 14

They walked into the squad room side by side, but they couldn't have been farther apart if they'd tried. He'd held the door for her, just like he always tried to do, but not a word was spoken. She'd expected awkwardness between them, but this surprised her. Perhaps she had made the mistake of thinking their friendship was stronger than it really was.

The room went silent when they appeared. Olivia made eye-contact with her, Stabler, Sledge and Munch eyed Bobby like he was still something of a suspect, and the rest stared at their shoes. It didn't take a detective to know what they were thinking.

"You got something you want to say?" she asked quietly, her gaze flicking to each one as they looked to see who she talking to. "Questions? Comments?" Nobody spoke. "No? Then I'm going to go get changed and then we're going to get back to work, if that's okay with everybody." There was that hard-ass again, but right then, she was grateful. Murmurs of assent drifted through the room as they turned back to their computers, their paperwork, their discussions - or at least pretended to. She could ignore the covert glances in her direction as she made her way toward the restroom, but the waves of pity that washed over her were harder to deal with. She wanted to turn and ask them, What has happened that _I_ deserve pity? _I'm_ not cursed, _I'm_ not fighting for my life, _I'm_ not the victim here, so what the hell are you pitying _me_ for?

Once she reached the restroom, she closed the door behind her, leaned against it, and cried.

* * *

The room was quiet when Alex emerged, but it wasn't the heavy silence that she'd left. Munch, Olivia and Stabler were conversing quietly, with Sledge and Fin sharing a stack of file folders at a nearby desk. Cragen was in his office again and Dr. Huang sat against the wall behind Sledge, unobtrusively observing the other side of the room, where Bobby was working all alone on her laptop.

She hadn't expected them to welcome him with open arms, but the severity of his exclusion surprised her. Did anyone even try to talk to him? She glanced at Dr. Huang, who had turned his attention to her now. He nodded at her, then picked up a white Styrofoam cup and disappeared down the hall. Alex stared after him, then draped her coat over the back of an empty chair and made her way over to Olivia.

"Please tell me you have coffee brewing somewhere," she said, trying to smother what started out as a fake yawn. Munch chuckled.

"What, Major Case never pulls all-nighters?" he asked.

"Not without coffee," she replied with a smile. "Now, don't make me ask again."

"Down the hall," Olivia said, "past the Captain's office, third door on the left."

Alex thought nothing of their friendly banter until she turned and caught Bobby watching her. Their eyes met for just a moment, then he went back to staring at her computer screen.

He had friends; she'd even met a few, and women seemed to love his little quirks and shy smiles. He got along fine with the other detectives at Major Case, except for Sledge and maybe one or two others, those that thought his methods a little too much like assault and battery of the mind. No, he didn't go out with the guys for beer and a ball game, and she couldn't remember if she'd ever seen him shooting the breeze around the coffee maker; he just wasn't that type of guy. He was too ... much, for most people.

She cast a backwards glance as she headed down the hall, but he was lost in his research again, only the small frown on his face marking this as a day unlike any other. He usually reveled in research.

The bitter scent of brewing coffee teased her nostrils as she entered the break room. Dr. Huang was seated at a small round table, waiting for her. Neither spoke as she poured herself a steaming cup and took a seat across from him.

"He isolated himself, didn't he?" she asked quietly.

"As soon as you left the room," he said. The doctor was very casual about it, but she could tell she was being evaluated, carefully checked over for any cracks or breaks. She took a drink of her coffee. He could search all he wanted; she was fine.

"Will he be all right?" Leaning back in his chair, Dr. Huang gazed off toward the ceiling as he considered.

"I don't know," he said at last. "I've seen hundreds of victims of sex crimes, but nothing like this." He shook his head. "Detective Goren is a very ... unusual man. How he deals with what has happened, I wouldn't be comfortable even offering a guess, but - " He paused and sipped his coffee. " - I can say with some degree of confidence, that right now, he's suffering terribly."

"And they actually pay you to state the obvious?" Alex said blandly. He gave her a small smile and took a deep breath.

"You and Detective Goren are close; more than partners, more than ... friends, - " He was watching her closely and she tried to keep her face perfectly neutral, with just a hint of annoyance in her eyes. " - but not lovers. Do you think he ever considered taking your relationship to that level?"

"I don't know," she said with a slight frown. Bobby wasn't exactly an open book, not one written in any language she could read, anyway. Sometimes, she'd glimpse passages, phrases, seemingly random letters that could mean anything ... or nothing. Dr. Huang cleared his throat.

"He needs someone to understand him, support him, anchor him, and affirm him. That's what you do, and if he thinks that he's lost that, lost you, it's going to make it very difficult to heal." He lifted his cup to his lips, then lowered it without drinking. "You were the last person he wanted to see in that cell." Alex nodded mutely. She glanced up as Munch stuck his head into the break room.

"Knock knock," he said, his acerbic voice dry with some secret joke. "I'm not interrupting anything, I hope."

"Just talking," Alex said with a shrug. Munch peered at her over the tops of his glasses.

"Well, watch out. The dear doctor can't seem to keep his hands out of your head."

"It's not just something you turn off, Detective," Dr. Huang said with a laugh. Munch crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the doorjamb.

"That's why you're so much fun at parties." He turned his attention back to her. "How much longer do you think you're going to need, 'cause your partner's already acting ... I don't know if incensed is the right word, but he's not acting normal." Alex raised one eyebrow. "He's talking to himself - " Munch elaborated, " - loudly, and gesturing. And pacing. Olivia's afraid he might hurt himself." She shook her head and stood up.

"That's just what he does. It's when he gets quiet that you have to worry." She grabbed her cup and headed back to the coffee machine.

"That's not decaf, you know."

"Thank God for small favors," she said with a laugh. She warmed up hers and then poured a second cup.

"You think that's a good idea?" Munch asked when she turned around, a cup of coffee in each hand. "I would think giving Detective Goren caffeine would be like throwing gasoline on a fire."

"Not tonight," she said. She glanced at Dr. Huang, who nodded slightly. "Are you going to join us, Doctor?"

"Well, somebody has to maintain an impartial opinion," he said with a smile as he stood up and pushed his chair in. Munch walked beside her as she made her way down the hall, Dr. Huang following a short distance behind them.

"You know," Munch said quietly, "I didn't specifically mean you when I suggested - "

"Who, then?" Alex interrupted. "Olivia? I'm sorry, I know she's your friend and you know her better than me, but I don't think she could have handled it. _I'm_ barely handling it."

"It was that bad?"

"Not that it's any of your business," she said with a crooked grin, "but no. Being helpless, completely at the mercy of the incubus was horrible, but ..." She remembered that moment, that brief second where he'd held her so close, as close as two people could be. He had felt so good. "... no, the rest of it wasn't that bad." She paused as the sound of his voice drifted down the hall to them. "The worst part," she confessed, "is thinking I might lose him because of it." Munch nudged her with his elbow.

"He'd be a fool to give you up."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note - Thanks for the reviews; I really appreciate them. It makes writing much more fun when you're not the only one enjoying the story. And you can thank the quick update on _Something To Be_, Rob Thomas's solo album. I've been writing up a storm since I got it. I highly reccommend it. _End commercial break_. Heh, heh.

* * *

" - a charm to counteract this ... curse, to nullify it until a cure can be found." He glanced at her as she entered the room. "Lavender," he said suddenly, turning on his heel and pacing back and forth in front of a pair of desks, "lavender promotes happiness, peace, protection ... love. Rowan has healing properties. Jasmine encourages prophetic dreams. Adder's tongue: healing, carnation: strength, wood rose: luck - it ... it's all here - " He gestured toward the laptop. " - there has to be something ..." He leaned on the desk, standing behind the chair like he was so fond of doing when she was sitting.

Alex walked over and sat on the edge of the desk across from where he was working. Silently, she handed him his coffee. He took it from her, took a drink and set it aside before her presence registered. He looked up at her, then at the coffee, then back at her. Without a word, he asked if she was all right, if _they_ were all right, and she replied in kind, with just a small smile. The shy grin he gave her was far from perfect; pain and sorrow still shadowed his eyes, deepening the little lines on his face, but it was a start.

"Actually, Detective Goren," Munch said from across the room, "charms and talismans won't do much good against a curse as severe as yours. They're intended to relieve toothaches and migraines, clear up warts and acne, things like that."

"And you know this ... how?" Bobby asked, cocking his head to the side and peering at Munch over his shoulder.

"While you were - " He glanced at Alex. " - indisposed, I was busy following up a lead. That contact I went to meet turned out to be the real deal."

"A witch?" Alex asked. He nodded. "Did you rule her out as a suspect?" Alex reached over and closed her laptop. Bobby picked up his coffee cup and she slid the computer to one side. He sat down on the edge of the desk, one one foot crossed behind the other to keep them out of the way.

"I didn't have time to investigate thoroughly," Munch said with a dry smile, "but, no, she didn't curse your partner. As she explained it to me, this is a very old, very powerful magick, almost never used because of the price it exacts on the person casting it."

"Which is?" Alex prompted.

"Losing the ability to feel love, lust or passion for the rest of their life." No one spoke as they considered the ramifications. It was Sledge who broke the silence.

"How could you hate someone so much?" he wondered out loud. Out of the corner of her eye, Alex watched Bobby give him a long, contemplative look.

"This ... witch," Stabler said, staring at the floor and scratching his temple like he couldn't believe what he was saying, "did she say how difficult the spell is? How many years of witch school you need?"

"I was wondering when the sarcasm would show up," Munch said, arching one eyebrow. "She said the spell itself wasn't hard; practically anyone could do it, even someone who has never shown any magickal propensity before, as long as they believed that it would work and were willing to pay the price."

"So it could be anybody," Fin said, slouching against the wall.

"No," Alex said softly, "this was a personal attack. This was someone who'd do anything for revenge, someone who knew just how to hurt him." _Us_, she added silently, _she hurt us_.

"It's Nicole," Bobby said, resting his knuckles against his chin as he stared down at the floor. "She was very good at finding things, learning things. And she wouldn't hesitate to do this, to give up love ... passion ... for revenge. She murdered her own daughter, after all."

"Detectives, Nicole Wallace is dead," Stabler said, a little loudly, in her opinion. "No one has found a trace of her, not the Feds, not Interpol, _no one_, since she _died_." Bobby stood up and sidled toward Stabler. Alex quietly set her coffee down, but otherwise didn't move. Perhaps she was being over-protective, perhaps Stabler wasn't an angry person, perhaps this wouldn't turn into an inter-departmental cockfight. Yeah, and perhaps Nicole Wallace really was dead.

"You never met her, Detective Stabler," Bobby said, too deep in his own complex reasoning to notice that he was too close for Stabler's comfort. The shorter man took his hands out of his pockets and balled them into loose fists. "Nicole may very well be dead, but that just means that she's claimed another victim, just like Elizabeth Hitchins ... killed and her identity stolen. It's what she does; she's a ... killer."

"Where's your proof?" Stabler asked. "Where's the evidence? All you got is a hunch, a baseless theory. Maybe that's how you work over at Major Case, but here we invesitgate the facts, so let's stop chasing ghosts and come up with some _living_ suspects." He glanced at Munch. "A ghost couldn't do this, right?" Munch gave him a 'What are you asking me for?' look.

"Come on, you two," Olivia said, stepping between the two men and placing a hand in the middle of each's chest. Stabler didn't seem to notice, but Bobby looked down at her hand as if he'd never seen anything quite like it. Alex stood up and took a step toward them. If the incubus was waking up already ... but no, it was just Bobby being ... Bobby.

"Detective Munch," Alex said pointedly, "this witch you spoke to, she didn't happen to mention a cure, did she?" Stabler glared up at Bobby for another moment, then turned away. Bobby ambled back over to sit beside her, his walk somewhere between dancing and stumbling. She knew he wasn't as clumsy as he sometimes looked, but she often forgot just how graceful he could be.

"Not specifically, no," Munch said, drawing her attention away from her partner. She'd have to thank him later. Had she stared for much longer, Bobby would have noticed, and God only knew what he might have infered from it. "She and her coven are going to look into it and call me if they find anything."

"How'd you get 'em to do that?" Fin asked, frowning at his partner.

"I cast a spell on her with my honeyed words and devilish charm," he replied with a smug smile.

"So, what do we do in the meantime?" Olivia asked.

"What do you think we do?" Stabler said. "We're the cops; we go get the bad guy."

* * *

Getting the bad guy proved easier said than done. Department records were a little lacking when it came to magickal crimes. Gee, what a surprise.

With a sigh, Alex leaned back in her chair. Her head brushed against something and she glanced up. It was the side of Bobby's jaw; he was reading over her shoulder again. At first glance, one might think that everything was back to normal between them, but then one would be a blind idiot. She could feel his presence like a weight on her chest, making every breath harder than it should be. His breath danced over her cheek, the barest touch, but she was acutely aware when it sped up after her hair brushed his face. She could feel the tightness in his body as he stood behind her, and there was nothing casual about the way his hand casually rested on the back of her chair.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when somebody's cell phone rang. She glanced over at Munch, but he shook his head. It rang again, and Alex stood up. The sound was coming from an unoccupied desk across the room. Olivia headed for it, but Alex beat her there. A quick search of the desk turned up nothing.

"Coat pocket," Bobby said quietly. "My cell." Alex found the phone, glanced at her partner, and answered.

"Good evening, Detective Eames," replied a polished male voice, soft and cultured, some hint of an accent - eastern European, maybe - mature, cool; dangerous. "I'm trying to reach Detective Goren. Is he available?"

"I'm sorry, he's tied up at the moment," she said, her words as carefully chosen as her uneasy tone. "Who is this?" The voice chuckled, a deep but sibilant sound, making her skin crawl.

"I assume that means it arrived safely. I'm very pleased. Has he been enjoying it?"

"We both have, thanks," she said, reigning in her sarcasm as much as she could. Bobby sidled up next to her, leaning down to listen, the scent of his skin making her stomach flutter. She forced herself to concentrate. "Now, to whom do we address the gift basket?"

"Not so fast, Detective," he said smoothly. "Did I hear a slight change in your tone just now? You sounded - " He drew a breath through his teeth. " - distracted. Perhaps your partner isn't as tied up as you thought. Am I right, Detective Goren?"

"I would have been ... ungrateful not to take your call. Your voice, it's familiar, but I can't ... place it to a face. How do I know you?" There was that hissing chuckle again and she felt Bobby shudder.

"We've never spoken before, Detective."

"Then why are you doing this?" Alex demanded, her temper flaring. Bobby put his big hand on her shoulder to calm her, like he'd done a hundred times before, but this time she tensed at his touch and he pulled back. She glanced at him, but his eyes were downcast, a frown on his face.

"Why?" the voice repeated. "Why indeed? Isn't that your job - to uncover the why and the who and the how? _Why_ should I make it easy on you?" There was a muffled bang in the background. "Ah - now for the fun part. Is Detective Munch there with you?"

"He is," Bobby replied, glancing at said detective.

"Intriguing man," the voice said and Alex could almost hear the twisted grin through the phone. "It's amazing the secrets one can hide if one has the proper skills. He's not on his cell, I hope. It looks like she's got something important to tell him." A moment later, Munch's cell rang.

"Munch," he said from across the room.

"Hi, John, it's me," came the indistinct reply from over Bobby's phone. Alex felt the color drain from her face. She thrust the phone into Bobby's hand and dashed across the room.

"Where is she?" Alex demanded. Munch raised one eyebrow, but repeated the question.

"The corner of fifty-first and eighty-sixth," he told her.

"Get a unit over there _now_," she told Stabler. "The man who cursed Bobby is with her, near enough that we could hear her through his phone." As Stabler went for the radio, she glanced back at Bobby.

" - no need to ... you've got our attention. Just - just tell me what you want - "

" - to me, Kia, you're in danger ... I don't care," Munch said, alarm starting to color his normally dry voice," you have to - "

" - what she has to do with this. It's between you and me - "

" - officers on the way, just watch yourself ... That's what I'm afraid of - "

"No, don't!" Bobby shouted.

"Kia? Kia!" Munch jerked the phone away from his ear as a piercing scream rent the silent squad room. Alex turned away, her fist pressed against her lips. She made eye contact with Bobby as he slowly closed his cell and set it on the desk in front of him. Something ... feral looked back at her. He turned away before she could be sure, but it was like that hunger he got sometimes while beating a suspect over the head with their own twisted psyche, only scarier. If that darkness was a shadow, this was the silent, ravenous beast that cast it. "The line's still open," Munch said suddenly. "I hear sirens. Kia? Can you hear me? Kia?" He kept repeating her name, but Alex had this horrible, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"John," Fin said quietly, laying his hand on his partner's arm. Munch shook him off.

"It's about damn time," Munch muttered, then he started shouting, "Hey, over here! Here, hurry! Hello? Hello? How is she? ... It's Detective John Munch, you jackass, now tell me - What do you mean, she's not there? I was talking to her not sixty seconds ago ... Well, look!"

Even from five feet away, Alex clearly heard a male voice on the other end of the line cry out, "Sweet Mother of God!" Munch fell back against the desk, the cell slipping from his nerveless fingers. It skittered across the floor and came to stop against her shoe. She stared at it a second, the hollow whisper filling the room as it repeated, "Mother of God." She picked it up.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "Did you find her?"

"I've never - seen - anything - " the officer stammered, sounding like he was going to empty the contents of his stomach onto the crime scene. She heard him swallow. "You guys better get down here, Detective."

"Damn it all, Officer," she practically shouted, "is she alive or not?"

"It looks like every bone in her body is broken," came the shaky reply, "but there ain't a mark on her."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	16. Chapter 16

Munch would not be left behind. Neither Olivia, nor Fin, nor Stabler, nor even the Captain, could make him see their reasoning. Alex stayed out of it. She agreed that he didn't need to go, but had it been someone she knew ... They could just try and stop her.

Relenting at last, the four detectives of the SVU swigged one last mouthful of coffee, slipped on their coats and headed for the door. Alex, Bobby and Sledge watched from the sidelines. They hadn't been invited, and it stung. She felt it, she knew her partner well enough to know that he felt it, even though he gave no outward sign, and Sledge watched with the envy of a boy on the wrong side of a ball park fence. She couldn't blame them, she supposed; this was their case, and Bobby couldn't exactly work a crime scene in his condition. There was no telling when the incubus would rear it's ugly head again.

She glanced at the clock - twenty 'till midnight. Over an hour since they'd ... She felt the flush creep up her neck and touch her cheeks, and she bowed her head, hoping her hair would hide it. He was watching her, she could feel it, and it took everything she had not to meet those dark eyes. If she looked at him, he'd know. She couldn't allow that, allow him to know that those few minutes still haunted her. He had to think that she'd moved past it, so that he would move past it, because dwelling on it could kill him.

She looked up when Munch stopped beside her and gently took his phone out of her hand. She'd been holding it, not even remembering it was there half the time, since she'd hung up with the officer on the scene. She reached out and lightly touched his arm. Words escaped her and, after a moment, she let him go. With Bobby, he'd have known what she was trying to say; they just had the special connection that came with working together so closely for so long. She stared mutely as the SVU filed out the door. As they were leaving, Bobby approached, nearly blocking Munch in.

"Who is Raum?" he asked. Munch tried to step around him without answering, but Bobby reached across him and planted his hand against the door frame, barring the way. "I heard - through his phone, she said, 'Is it Raum?' and you replied, 'That's what I'm ... afraid of.' You know who did this. Who did this? Who did this to me?" His voice rose to the thunderous pitch he sometimes unleashed on suspects. Alex jumped up, but she wasn't fast enough. Stabler came back through the door, grabbed Bobby by the back of his shirt and heaved him out of the way. Caught off guard, Bobby fell into a pair of desks, scattering pens and files across the floor.

"This isn't about you anymore," Stabler snarled as Bobby slowly righted himself. With his left hand, Bobby touched his back, just above the shoulder blade and to the right of center. His fingers came away smeared with blood. Alex looked at the desk, at the brassy paper spike and it's collection of blood-spattered notes, and at the dark stain slowly seeping through his shirt.

"Feel better now, Detective?" Bobby asked coldly, quietly. "Must be hard, holding all that ... rage inside, no one to take it out on since your wife left you."

"You son of a bitch," Stabler spat, launching himself at Bobby. Alex was used to seeing her partner fight with his brain and his words; it was shocking to watch him raise a hand in anger, especially against another detective. Both men landed a punch or two before she was able to force her way between them. They backed away, Stabler with a fat lip, Bobby with a cut above his left eye. "You think you know me, you freak?" Stabler hissed as Munch bodily moved him toward the door. "I've read your file. You're a nervous breakdown waiting to happen."

"As opposed to a mid-life crisis?" Bobby shot back. "Do the world a favor; get a girlfriend and a sports car and shut the hell up!"

"_What is going on out here_?" Captain Cragen shouted from the doorway of his office. Bobby and Stabler glared at each other.

"It's nothing, Captain," Munch said, releasing his friend. "We have to go now, they're waiting on us." Alex didn't move, nor hardly dare breathe, until they headed for the door. Stabler slammed his fist into a filing cabinet before allowing himself to be escorted outside.

"Detective Goren," Cragen said in a tone of authoritative reprimand that Deakins couldn't seem to master, "this is your only warning. Stop antagonizing my detectives, or I'll have you thrown in a cell for real." He started to return to his office, then added, "I just got off the phone with the Police Commissioner and he's mad as hell. You guys got until four am and then I have to call the next shift, or turn in my badge." Alex watched him stalk back into his office. When she turned back to Bobby, he was already walking away. Sledge stepped up beside her.

"That was both brave and stupid," he said, shaking his head. "Either one of them could have knocked you clear across the room without even meaning to."

"So what are you, my big brother?" she said, trying to step around him. He grabbed her by the arm.

"No, I'm your partner -"

"Temporarily," she reminded him.

"Even so," he said, the sting of her words as evident in his voice as his face, "I feel like I should look out for you. It's what partners do, even temporary ones." Alex tried to form a scathing rebuke, but the words died on her lips as she looked up into his kind, handsome face.

"Thanks," she said instead, "but I'm not as fragile as you may think. And Bobby would never hurt me."

"You can never tell what a person's capable of," Sledge said quietly. "As long as you've been a cop, you should know that."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	17. Chapter 17

"You okay?" Alex asked as she approached her partner. He was on her laptop again. The bloodstain had spread halfway down his back and still looked wet.

"Just a scratch," he said. She glanced at the cut above his eye. It could probably use a stitch or two - one of those butterfly bandages at the very least - if he didn't want a scar. Then again, scars could be sexy, not that Bobby needed any help in that area. _Whoa, hang on one damn minute. _Alex took a mental step back from that thought. Was that actually her making that insane observation, or was it the incubus talking?

True, she had been mildly attracted to him at one time, but that just seemed the natural course of events that their relationship took. At first, she'd been wary, on guard, perhaps because of what others had said about this peculiar, forty-something bachelor with the boyish grin, perhaps because of his sheer size. Once she realized that he wasn't going to put the moves on her, that she didn't need to prove herself worthy to be his partner, sure, he'd been charming and cute, in a totally platonic, non-threatening way.

That had lasted for nearly a month, and then he got weird. Sniffing corpses, scaring suspects, telling SCU how to do their job, acting like a compete know-it-all, and dragging her into his manipulative schemes. It took her almost a week to realize that this was the _real_ Robert Goren, that her cute and charming partner was just an act. Well, maybe not an act, but at least a cover. It had frightened her at first, but then it dawned on her - he was comfortable enough around her to be himself, to not have to hide. They were friends, and had been ever since, best of friends ... until now.

She could have slapped herself for allowing the thought to cross her mind. Of course they were still friends ... they had to be.

"How did you - ?" she started, meaning to ask him about that jab at Stabler's home life, but as often happened, she didn't even need to finish the sentence.

"Overheard them talking," he said, scowling at the computer screen. The internet was one of his least favorite tools. Unfortunately, with his books back at One Police Plaza and the library definitely off limits, it was all he had.

"Ah, what fools these detectives be," she said with a smile. Nobody at Major Case made idle chit-chat within earshot of the great Robert Goren, not unless you wanted him to corner you later in the day and explain why your dog keeps chewing up table legs, or a week later ask how your sister's mammogram went while you're waiting for the elevator. Her levity escaped him, though, as his eyes devoured the web page before him. "Found anything?" she asked, leaning over his shoulder.

"Raum is German," he said. "It means a room, or a place. It's also the name of one of the fallen ... angels, formerly of the order of the thrones, now a great earl in - in Hell."

"You think this is a ... demon?" Alex asked, trying to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

"I'm not sure what to think," he replied, and that clearly bothered him. "Whatever else he is, Raum is dangerous. I heard the fear when she said his name, heard the depravity, the ... pleasure in his voice when he told me - " He glanced at her, then went back to pecking at the keyboard.

"Told you what?" He didn't answer. "Bobby, what did he - ?" She stopped as Dr. Huang appeared at her side, a small first aid kit in his hand.

"You should let me have a look at that, Detective," he said, setting the little red bag on the desk. "That spike may have punctured a lung."

"I think I would know if it had," Bobby replied.

"Maybe not. Just to be safe, I should - "

"Don't touch me ..." _or you'll be sorry_. The unspoken threat hung heavy in the silence as Dr. Huang drew back. They exchanged glances, their thoughts clearly running down the same path. He turned and walked away, taking a seat on the other side of the room, near Sledge. Praying that she was wrong, Alex reached out and laid her hand on his bare forearm, causing him to flinch. The incubus breathed across her skin, waking the dark heat within her, teasing caressing, making her want him.

"It's started again," she said quietly, but she didn't pull back. Fighting it wasn't as hard as before. Maybe the cycle wasn't as advanced as the first time they'd touched, or maybe she was getting used to it; either way, the power didn't wash over her, robbing her of her senses and plunging her into some X - rated fantasy. No, it was much crueler than that, reminding her of the pain, the pleasure, the closeness she'd felt while in his arms, and it hinted at what could have been, had they only given in.

"Hey, Eames, you okay?" Alex pulled her hand back and glanced over at Sledge. He had risen half out of his seat. She waved him back down.

"Relax, Sledge. This is nothing, trust me," she said with a humorless laugh as she reached for the first aid kit and began rifling through the bag. "All right, you, off with the shirt," she said, addressing Bobby without looking up. "Dr. Huang's right; that wound needs to be taken care of, even if it is just a scratch." She found some antiseptic pads and pulled them out.

"Really, Eames, I'm fine," he said shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "You shouldn't be touching me." Alex reached out and cupped his cheek in her hand, his stubble rough against her palm. She turned him to face her.

"I don't mind," she said. Something restless and hungry moved behind his intense brown eyes, something that threatened to devour the man in there with it, something that recognized her, and she almost pulled away, but she couldn't do that to him. She was his anchor, his lifeline, and she couldn't - she wouldn't cut him loose. She let her fingers trail over the curve of his jaw, then raised her other hand to dab at the cut above his eye. He winced as the antiseptic stung. "Sorry."

"Are you?" he asked. "Are you sorry ... about ... what happened?" Alex opened her mouth, but words failed her and she closed it again. She was suddenly very busy wiping the blood off his face. How, exactly, was she supposed to answer that? She couldn't just say, 'Yeah, Bobby, I'm sorry we had sex.' That was cruel and - and - and not entirely true.

Honestly, she was sorry that it had to happen, that they had no choice, that they had to do it in a cold, ugly jail cell, hurt, angry, scared, helpless, and if she lost him, then she was sorry for that too, but in that one heartbeat where time seemed to stop, she had felt so ... whole, safe, loved. The only thing she was sorry about, for that moment, was that he didn't feel it as well.

But she couldn't say that.

"Regret is too simple for something this complex," she said, cleaning away the last of the blood. He was going to have one hell of a bruise. She found the bandages and neatly closed up the cut. Now, if he would just leave it alone to heal, the scar would be barely noticeable. "All right," she said brusquely, "let's see that back of yours." She reached for his shirt, to undo the buttons, but he caught her by the wrist, his big hand enveloping hers. She knew better, but she raised her eyes to meet his anyway.

Apparently, regret was not too simple, because she read it clearly in his face, regret thick enough to choke on. He opened his mouth to speak, but Alex cast a pointed glance in the direction of their chaperones, where Sledge and Huang were watching them like hawks. Bobby let go and dropped his eyes. He unbuttoned and removed his own shirt, turning his broad back toward her. For a second, she just stared, her eyes moving over the deep scratch left by the paper spike and lingering on the scabbed over fingernail marks.

"Is it bad?" he asked. She tore her eyes away and fetched another antiseptic pad.

"It's deep," she said, "but you're right; it's just a scratch." Standing just short of an arm's length from him, she began cleaning the wound. It was hard to concentrate; she kept glancing at the half moons of dried blood, the red welts across his shoulders. So that was another thing she was sorry about, sorry that she had hurt him.

"Where did you go?" he asked suddenly. She frowned.

"When? When I went to get coffee?" He shook his head, and when he spoke, his voice was so low she practically had to lean over his shoulder to catch his words.

"When we were ... together. You were so tense, fighting so hard," he said, "and then you relaxed. You went ... away, you escaped. To where?"

"Bobby, that's - "

"Personal? That's kind of the point, I think." He shifted in his chair. "You don't have to tell me, Eames, I understand."

"No, you don't," she said, glancing over her shoulder at Sledge. She gave her head a jerk, motioning for them to get lost, but Sledge crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. She narrowed her eyes at him, then turned back to Bobby. Taking a step closer, she rested one hand on his bare shoulder while she continued her ministrations with the other. "The ocean is this bright, green-blue," she said quietly. "The sand is so white and the jungle is dark and green and full of birds and butterflies. It's a small island, with no name, and deep in the jungle, there's a waterfall." She let her eyes drift shut, resting both her hands against his back, and let the scene fill her mind.

"The water splashes down a cliff of black rock, into a pool that reflects the dappled sunlight up onto the canopy. The water is cool on our skin, dancing over our bodies as we stand in the falls." She could almost feel the rushing water beating down on her, soothing her fevered skin -

"Sounds like paradise," he said, his voice rumbling through her hands. She drew back, suddenly finding it hard to catch her breath. A light sweat had broken out on Bobby's shoulders and goosebumps prickled down his bare arms. Setting her jaw, she went back to dabbing at the fresh blood seeping from his wound.

"It is," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "It's everything a fantasy is supposed to be - simple, perfect, and ridiculously unobtainable."

"And who is your simple, perfect and ridiculously unobtainable fantasy man?" Her hand slipped, digging her thumbnail into the edge of the cut and he hissed in pain.

"Sorry," she said, pressing the pad against the fresh upwelling of blood. "You know, this might be deep enough to need real sutures. When was your last tetanus shot?"

"Nice try, Eames," he said, "but I asked you a question. Who were you with?"

"Come on, Bobby," she said quietly, "this isn't the time - " He suddenly stood up and fixed Dr. Huang and Sledge with a hostile stare.

"Do you think you guys could give us a minute, here?" he asked, leaning forward and cocking his head to one side. It was unnerving when he was wearing his suit and tie; shirtless, it was downright creepy, watching the muscles flex beneath his skin. The doctor stood up, but reluctantly.

"I'm not sure leaving is - "

"And what are you going to do, should we start going at it right here on the desks - besides watch? You touch either one of us and you'll get snared as well. Or does a manage a troi sound like fun, Detective Sledge?" Sledge rose to his feet, his shoulders and neck stiff, hands clenched into fists. Alex shot him a look, half pleading, half warning.

"We'll be in the break room," he said shortly. "Just ... scream if you need us." She watched them leave, staring down the empty hallway after they'd gone, Bobby's question ringing through her mind, '_Who were you with?_'

She had been with him. It hadn't occurred to her to imagine herself in someone else's arms. Being with Bobby hadn't been the problem - being fed on by an incubus in a jail cell had. But could she tell him that? Or would it just make an awkward situation worse? With a sigh, she turned - and found him gone.

He was on the other side of the room, pacing. A trickle of blood was running down his back.

"Damn it, Bobby," she said, grabbing a fresh antiseptic pad. "Get over here and sit down." For a second, he acted like he hadn't heard her, then he ambled over and silently took a seat. Perhaps a little rougher than necessary, she wiped the blood away and closed the wound with a couple of those little suture strips. It wouldn't hold for long, knowing him, but it was better than nothing. She slapped a big bandage over the top to keep it clean and threw his shirt at him. "You can put that back on now." She turned away.

"You're angry with me," he said. She wanted to spin around and say, 'You're damn right I am,' but the anger died before she could, leaving her exhausted and adrift.

"I'm not angry," she told him, staring at an empty spot on the wall. "I just, I don't how to answer you. It's too personal to share with a - a partner." She swallowed hard as he stepped up behind her.

"And that's all I am, your partner?" She shook her head.

"It's more than you'd tell a friend."

"Then we're just friends?"

"I don't know, aren't we?"

"Well, is that what you want?"

"I - What do _you_ want?" His energy radiated onto her like heat from a fire. She closed her eyes, wishing that he would wrap his big hands around her shoulders and rest his chin on her head, hold her close enough to feel his heart beat against her back. Her eyes flashed open and she stepped away, her hands shaking. "I hate this!" she shouted. "I can't even trust that my thought are _my _thoughts. Just - just stay away from me!" She walked away.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Note - I found myself with a serious case of writer's block this week, so I figured I'd reply to everyone who left their name with a review. I really appreciate all of you, especially those who review every chapter, although I love hearing from new people as well.

Sage - I accept your challenge! And I would make the chapters longer if I could, but that's just how they come to me.

KendraC - Now, you didn't hear this from me, but _there may be a sequel in the works with a very deserved vacation in it_. No promises, though. I'm easily distracted. As to how long this will be? God only knows. It started as a short, 20 pg idea and well... look at it. I can say there will be at least twenty more chapters, judging by my hasty outline

X-Pig - Thank you for your wonderful reviews.

netherfield - Thank you, I was rather proud of that part myself.

Strawberry-ksc - Thank you, those are some of the best compliments I've ever gotten.

thousand-miles - Thanks. And yes, I could just have them admit that they love each other, but then I wouldn't get to write all the fun stuff I have planned for them.

TriStateCopFan - LOL I hope you're not a brain surgeon or an air traffic controller! Maybe I should put a warning on this story: May be hazardous to your concentration. Thanks and I'm glad you like it. I'm working on it RIGHT NOW! Well, not _right_ now, but ten minutes ago LOL.

justawriter - Thank you. I'll try.

08Starbaby08 - Thanks. I'm always watching for more Bobby/Alexness on the show, but I think if they did, unless it was subtle, it would ruin something.

Daiquiri - Thank you so much!

Hope you all like this next chapter as much as the last one.

P.S. The writer's block is gone, so don't worry about next week.

* * *

Alex kicked the door open and stalked outside, the chill night air doing little to cool the fire in her blood as she paced back and forth in front of the station. She glanced up as several people, tourists, from the look of them, crossed to the other side of the street to avoid walking past her. Taking a deep breath, she buried her face in her hands ... and screamed. A long, wounded roar of frustration echoed from the dark faces of the surrounding buildings.

Feeling marginally better, she sank down on the front steps and hung her head. God, this sucked. It was the main reason you kept personal crap out of the workplace, to keep the lines, the boundaries, clear and defined. Now, she had no idea where the lines lay, or on which side she stood. Her cell rang.

"Boy did you pick a bad time," she muttered, then into the phone said, "Eames."

"Good evening, Detective Eames." Alex felt a thrill of fear twist in her gut, but no more than she would have if confronted by a large spider. You just dealt with it.

"Good evening, Raum," she replied, brushing her hair out of her face as she raised her head and slowly stood. That smooth voice on the other end of the line chuckled.

"My, my, aren't we clever," he said. "No wonder they gave you a badge. Of course, having Detective Munch's little witch name me must have been some help. Too bad it's the only help you're going to get from her."

"Did you just call to brag, or do you want something?" Alex asked shortly as she mounted the steps to the front doors.

"You're not going inside, are you, Detective Eames? It's such a lovely night."

"It's a little cold for me," she replied, keeping her eyes fixed in front of her. Searching for him would be pointless; the street was dark and a hundred windows looked down on her, not to mention the rooftops, alleys, fire escapes, cars ... and she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he'd rattled her.

"Take one more step, and I will kill you where you stand." It was his cool, factual tone as much as his words that stopped her mid-step. It was as if he didn't really care one way or the other. She put her raised foot down and leaned against the cold metal railing. "Thank you," Raum said. "I just couldn't bear the thought of sharing your attention with Detective Goren. You know how distracting he can be."

"And whose fault is that?" Alex asked.

"Don't blame this on me," Raum said. "Everyone knows the two of you were just dying for an excuse to conjugate your partnership. If not an incubus, then one too many drinks at the New Year's party, or the thought of spending another birthday alone, or just giving in to simple physical need. If you ask me, the curse was a favor; no guilt, no hurt feelings, no regrets, just sweet release." Was he mocking her? She was usually so good at reading voices, but with him, she couldn't tell.

"Excuse me if I don't sound grateful," she said, "but go to hell. You don't know anything about Goren and me."

"I think we both know that's not true," he said. "I'd love to elaborate, but let's save something for the interrogation."

"You plan on getting caught?" she asked, glancing up and down the street. It was a quiet night, for Manhattan; only a handful of pedestrians and some light traffic. Her free hand slipped beneath her jacket and brushed against the cold butt of her nine millimeter. That silky laugh sent goosebumps down her arms.

"Not tonight, Detective Eames, but it never hurts to have a contingency plan. I am well aware of the lengths you and your partner will go to in order to 'get your man'. Your record is quite impressive, or would be, if not for the one that got away ... not once, but three times. That must be frustrating." Alex's heart did a dance inside her ribcage.

"Did Nicole Wallace put you up to this?"

"Oh, well done, Detective," he said enthusiastically. "There's the famous deductive reasoning I've heard so much about. I had begun to think that perhaps it was Detective Goren who found all the clues, made all the connections and solved all the cases, and that you were just window dressing." She had no trouble hearing the mockery now.

"I don't know what she promised you ... you don't seem like the type to be tempted by money or power."

"No, I have quite enough of both, thank you."

"What was it then, her body? Her love?"

"Pleasures of the flesh do not intrest me, Detective Eames," he said condescendingly, "and we both know that Nicole was incapable of love even before I met her."

"So why - "

"There you go again, expecting me to make this easy on you. Nothing worth having is without it's share of work. However, since you did make that astounding connection between Nicole and me all by yourself, I will give you this - When I pulled Nicole out of the river, she was barely alive, and with her very last breath, she said, 'Bobby ... Bobby, you can't do this to me. I'll make you sorry, you and your bitch of a partner, sorry you ever crossed me.' and then she died.

"That kind of strength impresses me, Detective, and if there's one thing I connect with, it's strength, and revenge."

"So, this has nothing to do with you," Alex said. "This is all just a favor for a dead woman you pulled out of the river."

"You said it, not me," Raum replied with a chuckle. "Now, let's see what you do can do with it. Good bye for now, Detective Eames." Alex stood on the steps with the cell to her ear, eyes scanning the darkness. With slow and deliberate movements, she hung up the phone, slipped it back in her pocket, and headed inside.

* * *

"So Nicole is dead," Bobby said for the third time as he paced back and forth behind Alex's chair. She had relayed the entire conversation between her and Raum, but that seemed to be the only part he was grasping.

"Yes, if this guy can be believed, then she is dead, but Bobby - " She slid her chair back into his path. " - he has no motive. He's exacting the revenge of a woman he pulled from the river and watched die, against two people he's never met. This guy is insane."

"Not insane, Detective Eames," Dr. Huang said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "From what I've heard, I would say he shows many characteristics of Antisocial, as well as - "

"Narcissistic Personality Disorder," Bobby said. The doctor's smile disappeared as his thunder was stolen. "Disregard for the law, for the rights of others, no guilt, no remorse, feelings of superiority, contempt, self-importance - "

"Is that all you do, talk about yourself?" Stabler asked as he strolled into the squad room, Olivia just a few steps behind. His lip was still swollen and the beginnings of a bruise graced his jaw. She looked pale, threadbare, burnt-out.

"We got another call from Raum," Alex said quickly, shooting her partner a warning look. He pulled over a chair from another desk and straddled it, resting his forearms on the back, as he was wont to do. Tonight, though, Alex had to tear her eyes away and take a calming breath before she could continue. She quickly explained what they had learned, noting the haughty I-told-you-so look on Stabler's face when she mentioned that Nicole was dead. When she finished, she glanced toward the front of the building. "Where's Munch and Fin?"

"John wanted to talk to the victim's friends," Olivia answered, "to see if they knew who might have done this or what she was calling to tell him."

"What was the crime scene like?" Bobby asked. Olivia and Stabler exchanged glances.

"Damnedest thing I ever saw," Stabler said, shaking his head. "The body was ..."

"Twisted," Olivia said, "like a rag doll."

"But without so much as a bruise. No blood, no sign of a struggle, no weapon, nothing."

"Did either of you notice a ... a scent, something out of place on or near the body?" Stabler stared at him, nonplussed.

"You did not just ask if I sniffed that corpse," he said, then turned to Olivia. "He didn't - did he?"

"Look, either you noticed something or - or - or you didn't," Bobby said, that predatory gleam in his eye again. "It's okay if you didn't, it doesn't mean that you're a bad cop or anything ... " Stabler took a step toward him and Alex jumped to her feet between them.

"Back off, Detective," she said, her voice low and steady as she faced him down. For a second, it looked like Stabler was going to go right through her to get to Bobby, then Olivia stepped up and took her partner by the arm.

"Come on, Elliot, he's not worth it." He glared over Alex's shoulder like she wasn't even there, the he reluctantly let her lead him away. Alex rounded on Bobby to find him still watching the angry detective.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded, swatting him on the arm. "Are you trying to get me killed?" He looked up at her, shock plain on his face.

"What? No - Never -"

"Then stop picking fights with people."

"I fail to see how who I fight with is any of your business," he said, rising to his feet. Not since they'd first started working together had she felt small around him; half the time it seemed that they both forgot he was nearly a foot taller than her, but now he was using every inch to distance himself. He even stopped slouching.

"You're my partner and that makes it my business. It's my job to watch your back and keep you from getting your ass kicked." Bobby laughed, loud and sudden. Alex didn't see what was funny.

"You think _he_ could kick my ass?" he asked, bending his body toward Stabler.

"Honestly, I think _I_ could." He fixed her with a dark, intense stare. "You're big, Bobby, but you're not a fighter. I got three older brothers; I know how to take care of myself." He leaned down until he was right in her face. The incubus reached out and caressed her cheek, bringing a gasp to the very edge of her lips before she was able to bite it back and keep her silence.

"Prove it," he said, his breath a moist and bitter coffee scented kiss against her skin. She felt lightheaded as she stood there, so close, the curse coursing through her blood like a burning poison, sapping her strength, her will power, stealing away her reasons for fighting, for resisting. She knew jumping him right then and there was a bad idea, she just couldn't remember why.

She stepped back, even though every fiber of her body was screaming for his touch.

"This isn't the time, or the place," she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling - and failing. "Let's work on solving this case and getting you un-cursed, and then, if you still want proof, I'll beat the living hell out of you." She matched him stare for stare, unblinking, letting him read the conviction of her words in her eyes. He finally turned away, muttering something about coffee as he lumbered out of the room. Once he was gone, Alex collapsed into her chair, about half a breath away from a complete breakdown.

"You okay?" Olivia asked, coming over to perch on the edge of the desk. Alex shook her head.

"He's a completely different person," she said. "I don't know what to do." She could feel the tears prickling her eyes, but she blinked them back, only to have Olivia's hand grip her shoulder in companionable support. Then she lost it, the tears running silently down her face.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	19. Chapter 19

"Tell me again why I'm packin' this heavy ass box around?" Alex grabbed a Kleenex off the desk and quickly wiped the tears off her face as Munch and Fin entered the room, each burdened with a rather heavy looking wooden crate. They set the boxes on an empty desk.

"Find out anything?" Stabler asked, eyeing the crates.

"A little," Munch said, glancing at each of them in turn. He looked slightly apprehensive. "Where's the big guy?" Stabler nodded toward the break room. "He should probably hear this; I'd rather not have to say it twice." He didn't look like he wanted to say it once. Alex started to get to her feet, but Olivia patted her on the shoulder.

"I'll get him." Alex sank back into the uncomfortable desk chair with a sigh. What she wouldn't give for a few hours at home in her bed. She felt like she'd been hit by a bus.

"So, what is this stuff, Detective?" Sledge asked, picking up a long, silver and black dagger from out of the first box. He tested the edge on his thumb. It didn't seem to be very sharp. Munch took it from him and put it back.

"Witch tools," Munch said. "Alex is going to need them to put this curse to rest."

"Me?" she asked, sure that she hadn't heard him correctly. "How can I - I'm not a witch." Munch sighed and leaned against the edge of the desk.

"You don't - "

"No, please!" The sound of glass hitting the floor filled the silence like a small explosion. Alex leaped to her feet and ran down the hall, stopping dead in the doorway of the break room.

Olivia lay on her back on the table, her dark red blouse open to reveal a silky, pale pink bra, her legs locked around Bobby's waist as they ground against each other through their jeans. The look in her eyes was one of pure terror as she watched her own hands unbutton Bobby's shirt. Alex's heart caught in her throat. She could taste Olivia's fear as if it was her own.

Stabler shoved past her. She grabbed him by the arm and tried to jerk him back, but was satisfied just to stop him moving forward.

"Don't touch them!" she commanded. He gave her a 'What the hell is wrong with you?' look. "It's contagious," she explained. "You'll be overcome by the curse as well." He swallowed hard and took a step back.

"We can't just let him rape her!" Stabler hissed.

"This isn't his fault!" she hissed back. "It should only last a few seconds; I was still able to fight it just ten minutes ago. It'll stop." _Please let it stop_, she begged.

"It's not stopping," Sledge said after a moment. Alex had forgotten the rest of them were watching, too. She turned on them.

"All right you guys, get out," she said. "If we need your help, we'll let you know." They filed back up the hallway and Alex shut the door. She turned back around to find Stabler getting ready to whack Bobby with a wooden broom handle. "Don't you dare!" she shouted, leaping forward and grabbing the rod with both hands as he started to swing. He nearly lifted her off the ground, but she didn't let go. "You are _not_ going to beat him with a stick like some - "

"Do it!" Bobby interrupted, his voice hoarse and strained. "Do it. This is different, Alex, I can't fight it ... It's not going to stop." He looked down at Olivia, right into her panicked eyes, and Alex felt a stab of jealousy. He had kept his eyes averted with her. "I can't - I won't ... do ... this," he ground out between his teeth. A complex string of emotions played across Olivia's face, most of them variations of pain, fear and sorrow.

"It's - it's okay," she told him, but she flinched as his hands unbuttoned her jeans and slid down over her thighs. She glanced at Alex, but not at her partner. "Could you two give us a little privacy?" Alex didn't move, Stabler looked at her like he'd just been shot, and Bobby laughed.

"You can't ... lie to me, Detective Benson," Bobby said to her, then raised his voice. "Do what you have to. I'm not - not worth any more ... sacrifices." He lifted Olivia's lower body off the table while she worked her jeans down. "Hurry!" Stabler adjusted his grip on the broom handle.

"Hang on," she told him, "I just thought of something. He's not consciously doing this. I don't think beating him senseless will have any effect."

"It'll make me feel better," Stabler said, but he tossed the rod into the corner. "So, what now?" Alex turned away, unable to watch and think clearly at the same time.

"It is power," she said, "power enough to control two, but what happens when you spread that power out over four? It's not as strong, right? We'd be able to fight it."

"I'm not following," Stabler said and Alex rolled her eyes. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to work with 'normal' people, how you had to practically spell out every damn thing. God, she missed Bobby.

"Look, when I say, you just grab your partner. Focus on pulling her free; don't think about anything else, just get her out. I'll do the same with Bobby." Finally, he seemed to get it.

"Once she's ... away from him, it's going to turn back on you." Alex shrugged.

"Just ... you know, don't hang around. I'd rather not have an audience." He regarded her for a moment, then nodded slowly.

"Thanks," he said. She'd have liked to spout some altruistic crap about duty and friendship, but her mouth was too dry to speak. She watched Bobby and Olivia bump and grind and struggle with her jeans for another moment, then Olivia's legs released their hold on his waist and he took a small step backward, his hands sliding down her bare skin as he stripped her pants off. It was probably the best chance they were going to get.

"Now," Alex said, stepping into her partner. She didn't really expect to be able to move the mountain, but if she could distract it long enough for Stabler to get Olivia away, that would be good enough. She planted both hands in the middle of his bare chest and shoved, feeling his firm, hot flesh for only a moment before the incubus coursed though her like a bolt of lightning. For a split second, she was floating in a white vacuum, no sound, no smells, no sensations of any kind.

_So, this is what death is like_. But even before she could finish the thought, a sharp pain bit into her side, bringing her back with a gasp, which turned the pain into a burning fire from her armpit to her hip. She experienced a moment of sensory overload as everything tried to register at once: the edge of the counter digging into her ribs, Bobby's strong arms wrapped around her, the manly smells of musk and sweat, the rapid double beat of his heart against her cheek.

She drew another pained breath and had to push him away, just enough to take the pressure off her side. Straightening up hurt; she probably cracked a rib, although she couldn't remember how. She glanced around, at the shards of broken glass, the coffee spilled on the floor, Olivia and Stabler lying in a tangle of limbs next to the table, seemingly unconscious, and then up at Bobby.

As she met his eyes, the incubus whispered through her, nothing she couldn't resist, but enough of a suggestion to make her heart skip and her cheeks burn. She lowered her gaze, and found herself staring at his lips. They parted slightly, the tip of his tongue sliding ever so slowly across his lower lip. He bent toward her, then pulled back, hesitant. Rising onto her toes, she narrowed the distance, and felt him tense. Her heart jumped into her throat. Had she made a mistake?

His arms tightened around her slight figure and he leaned down, his lips hovering above her hers, then touching, gentle, fleeting, tasting, retreating, then back again, so soft, warm, not teasing, just ... savoring. His hands glided up her arms, one finding a place at the back of her neck, the other cupping her cheek, his thumb caressing the line of her jaw, so possessive, so in control, and she surrendered to him. When he finally kissed her, her soul sighed, content at last.

Someone groaned. It wasn't her, and it didn't sound like him, though she was tempted to groan herself when he pulled away. She had to lean back against the counter as he let go, not sure if she could trust her knees to do their job. Once she was sure she wasn't going to embarrass herself by collapsing into the puddle of spilled coffee, she glanced over at Stabler and Olivia, trying to figure out which one had made that ill-timed sound - and which one she was going to have to shoot for it.

It was Stabler. He lay on his back, a barely clothed Olivia on top of him, her cheek resting against his shoulder. She was still out by the looks of it. He stared up at the ceiling, and Alex could only imagine what had to be running through his mind. She wanted to go over and help him out, poor guy, but she wasn't ready to tempt fate by trying to walk any time soon.

He eased his partner off of him, cradling her head in the crook of his arm as he rolled her onto her back on the floor beside him. Alex felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth as his eyes traveled the length of Olivia's body - a typical male thing to do - but the look of innocent wonder on his face stilled the cynic in her. It was like watching someone appreciate a fine work of art. He could see her, the rich, warm tone of her skin, the pale pink of her underwear, the curve of her hip, the light, the shadow, the beauty, all without her being a sexual object.

It didn't last, of course, and his neck flushed scarlet as he began fumbling with her clothes, trying to cover her. Alex took a sideways step along the counter, just in case, and when her knees only wobbled a little, she crossed the room, carefully skirting the remains of the glass coffee carafe. Bobby, genius that he was, stayed put.

Stabler glanced up as she approached, and the shame in his eyes was painful to see. He turned away as she knelt beside them, mumbling something she couldn't catch, nor cared to hear.

"Detective Stabler," she said, then, "Elliot." She had to repeat his name a third time before he shut up and looked at her. "Are you okay?" He nodded slowly.

"A little dizzy." Cop eyes gave her a once over. "Are you .. okay?" The scowl returned as he glanced over at Bobby, and then began tugging Olivia's jeans back up.

"I'm fine," she said. "We both are. Whatever this was, it stopped once we separated them." She reached out and helped him finish dressing his partner, then took Olivia's wrist, feeling for a pulse. The beat was strong and steady, as if she was just sleeping.

"Is she ... ?" Elliot asked, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of Olivia's face.

"I think she's fine," Alex said, "but if she doesn't wake up soon, maybe we should call for a bus. There's no telling - " Something on the floor under the table caught her eye, a wisp of shadow that danced over the faded tiles as she reached for it. Her fingers closed on something soft and light as air. A feather. A black feather. "Goren, what do you make of this?" she asked, holding it up.

"Don't touch that!" he shouted. Startled, she let go, watching it float slowly to the floor and lay still.

"Did I miss something?" Elliot asked as Bobby rummaged through the cupboards above the sink.

"You and me both," Alex replied. Her partner came barreling across the room, a new, white coffee filter in his hand. He got down on his hands and knees and laid the edge of the filter against the floor. She couldn't take her eyes off of him as he pursed his lips and blew the almost downy feather onto the paper. His close proximity was making her want to kiss him again. She clenched her jaw and ignored it. Bobby carefully lifted the filter and it's apparently precious cargo up into the center of the table. "Bobby," Alex said, a slight frown on her face, "what the hell is going on?"

"I got a better question," Elliot said, still hovering protectively over his partner. "How could you let this happen? You had to know you were dangerous; why didn't you go back to your cell where you couldn't hurt anyone?" He looked down at Olivia. "How could you do this?"

"This wasn't me - this wasn't _it_, I'm not - not yet ..." Alex felt her breath catch in her throat as he lifted his eyes to her face, then reached up and rubbed the back of his hand along her cheek, exciting a thrill of pleasure in her that she hadn't expected. She raised her hand to his, her fingers sliding up his palm. The touch was electric, but she forced herself to break away. He took his hand back and then reached for Olivia's bare arm.

"Don't you dare," Elliot hissed, pulling his weapon. Instinct found her hand on her own piece, but common sense made her leave it in its holster. You did not draw on a fellow cop. Apparently, Elliot missed that memo. His weapon was trained unwaveringly on Bobby's forehead.

"Put. It. Down," Alex said through her teeth.

"Get back," Elliot said, ignoring her. Bobby didn't move. He had that detached look in his eye, the one he got when he was observing something. She used to glance up from her paperwork and find him looking at her like that, as if he were trying to memorize her face. It didn't happen so much anymore; maybe she wasn't as interesting as she used to be.

"I'm not going to hurt her," Bobby said quietly, turning his attention to Olivia. "I have to see - to know - Eames might just be resistant - I can't risk ... this happening again." When he ran his thought together like that, it was a sure sign of something big in the wind. Usually, it meant he was close to solving some puzzle, just one stroke away from connecting the last dots, but she'd noticed that it occasionally happened when he was tired, or rattled by a suspect ... or about to do something really stupid. "Just three seconds," he said. "Anything happens - you can shoot me."

Bobby began to reach for Olivia again. Alex watched Elliot's finger tense as he started to squeeze the trigger. Gut reaction was to try and knock the gun out of his hand, but a man wound that tight, any sudden movement might set him off. She held her breath as Bobby's long, powerful fingers made contact with Olivia's wrist. One second: nothing happened. Two seconds: nothing. Three - Olivia stirred, a whispered moan escaping her lips as her eyelids fluttered open. Bobby pulled back. Elliot laid his weapon on the floor. In a rush, Alex released the breath she'd been holding.

"What - what - how - ?" Olivia said, grabbing the front of her partner's shirt as he helped her sit up. Her eyes, a little glassy and distant, roamed over Elliot's face, then Alex's, and finally found Bobby's. She looked at him, and then, like watching someone emerge from a tunnel into the sun, the memory came back to her. She scrambled away from him, and cried out when Elliot grabbed her forearm. He let go immediately, but when she saw it was him, she threw herself into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder. She was shaking, but Alex didn't think she was crying. Elliot held her, rocking her ever so slightly, speaking softly in her ear. Alex drew Bobby to the other side of the room.

"You want to explain to me about the feather?" she said. He had his head tilted to the left as he watched the two detectives, his face like an open wound; raw, aching.

"I did that," he whispered. Before Alex could respond with the now perfunctory 'It's not your fault.', he turned to her, his emotions closing down, presenting her with his pondering detective face and staring at the floor. "I entered the room, went to the coffee maker. I couldn't find a cup. Something on the table caught my eye - out of place ... strange - a feather, black, mostly down, a breast feather - crow or raven. Probably crow; ravens prefer more rural areas, country, woods, not parks. I picked - picked it up, and went cold, my whole body - just frozen. Couldn't move, might have been minutes, hours, then ... she came in. I tried - tried to warn her, but couldn't. She came over ... she touched my arm, and - and - and I - " He raised his eyes and captured her in his gaze. "It was so much worse; I couldn't fight at all. I was so afraid I wouldn't be able to stop this time - stop myself from ... " He trailed off and let the sentence hang unfinished between them. It seemed that a lot of things were being left unfinished tonight.

"Well, it's over now," Alex said briskly. She glanced at Elliot and Olivia. Olivia had stopped shaking and their embrace looked more relaxed, more for comfort than clinging for dear life. Elliot glanced at her, then at the door. She nodded. "Come on," she said to Bobby, "there's no telling what kind of trouble our friends are getting into without us."

"Your friends," he quietly corrected her as they headed for the door. "I have the feeling they don't like me very much right now."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	20. Chapter 20

As usual, Bobby was the master of understatement. The squad room was silent as they entered, and every face regarded them both with icy eyes. Maybe she was just in the line of fire, or maybe they'd decided this was her fault, as well. Either way, it was like walking into a freezer. Alex said nothing, just walked to the desk she'd been working at and sat down. Bobby followed her lead, straddling the chair beside her as she began a search for crows, feathers, witches and magick. After a moment, Fin cleared his throat.

"How's Olivia?" he asked.

"She's fine," Alex said, tossing her hair out of her face as she looked up. "A little shaken up, but fine. Nothing happened."

"That didn't look like 'nothing', Alex," Sledge said. Beside her, Bobby shifted in his chair.

"And since when are we on a first name basis, Edward?" she said, hunting through the pack until she found him, leaned up against a filing cabinet. He stared defiantly back at her. "Look, what happened in there wasn't the incubus, not completely, at least. Once we separated them, it stopped; the curse doesn't just stop. Something - something else is going on."

"A lust spell." Everyone turned to look at Munch. "You touched something, didn't you?" he asked Bobby. Fin muttered something about Olivia and Munch smacked him on the arm with the back of his hand. "Before she came in."

"There was a - a feather ... "

"A crow's feather?" Alex looked sharply at him.

"How did you know?" Before he could answer, Bobby's cell rang. They exchanged glances. "If this is Raum," she said, turning to Cragen, "can you guys get a trace?"

"We sent everybody home," the captain said, "but I think these guys might be able to manage." He nodded at Munch and Fin.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cap'n," Fin said, heading down the hall.

"It won't do any good," Munch said with a shake of his head as he followed his partner out of the room. Bobby let the phone ring one more time, then answered.

"Goren." Alex leaned over to listen in.

"Good evening, Detective Goren. You took so long answering, I was afraid you were ... busy." Alex had never heard anyone make such a simple word sound so suggestive, so dirty, just with his tone of voice. "Too bad your partner had to interfere; Detective Benson looks like a screamer to me. Now I guess we'll never know." She clenched her fists, fighting the urge to reach through the phone and strangle him.

"The feather, it belonged to a crow?"

"You're a very unusual man, Detective. Most people see a black feather and think raven."

"Most people have never been bewitched, either. That was an impressive spell - very ... effective."

"It would have been, if not for the lovely, but meddlesome Detective Eames. Do you suppose she was jealous, is that why she butted in? How do you think she felt when she saw you running your hands over another woman's skin?" Alex didn't move. This guy was full of crap. Bobby would see that. She wasn't jealous. Not like that. His voice made her skin crawl as he continued. "I bet it was exquisite torture for her when you were off cavorting with that willowy Detective Bishop and she was stuck behind a desk, nauseous, bloated, with the swollen ankles and aching back, feeling oh so unattractive - "

"That's enough," Bobby said, his voice low and rumbling.

"I'm sorry, did I hit a sore spot? I have such a knack for saying the wrong thing sometimes. But you know what that's like, right Detective Goren?" In the background, she heard a splash, like something being dropping into water, something small, and not from any great height. "It must be hard, sitting so close to her, breathing in the scent of her skin, your fingers itching to brush that stray lock of hair out of her face. What could that hurt? Why don't you. I know she won't mind." Alex jumped as his hand moved in front of her face. She glanced at him and was surprised by the shock in his eyes. In a second, it was gone and he casually finished brushing her hair back, his fingertips trailing over her cheek.

"Nice trick," he said. "Must take a lot of talent to talk someone into doing something they wanted to do anyway."

"Oh, is this where you manipulate my ego and incite me to say something I'll come to regret?" He laughed again. "I couldn't care less what you think of me, Detective. I don't need to leave fancy clues and inane riddles to prove that I'm smarter than you; the fact that you can't catch me is testament enough for that." Bobby covered the mouthpiece as Munch and Fin returned.

"Scumbag's in Central Park," Fin said as he grabbed the phone off a desk. "Send everything we got?" Cragen nodded.

"I want this guy _now_."

"It's a waste of time," Munch said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"The good detective's right, I'm afraid," Raum said. Alex leaned back and looked at Bobby. There was no way he could have heard Munch through the phone. "Go ahead and send whomever you like, though. I'm at the east end of the lake, if that helps any. The boys in blue need something to do, right? I won't hurt them ... this time." He cleared his throat. "Now, the reason I called ... I was thinking about our lovely Detective Eames, and how closely she must be listening to our conversation, her delicate ears straining to catch every word, every sound." There was that small splash again. "Eavesdropping can be a dangerous pastime, though. I would hate for her to suddenly have trouble catching her breath, her heart beating so hard in her chest." Alex went cold, her heart pounding in her ears as she began to gasp, fire burning up her right side with each breath. "That cracked rib would be agony, a searing pain that would make it that much harder to breathe. It would be terrifying."

Terrifying didn't begin to describe it. It was like trying to breathe through a pillow. She was getting black spots in front of her eyes. She felt Bobby's hand on her shoulder, her face, but the darkness was creeping in to claim her, swallowing the sound of his voice.

Pain bit across the side of her face, sharp, stinging, and she gasped, her lungs burning as she fought to draw breath. When the air came freely, she nearly choked on the rush of emotions that swarmed over her; relief, anger, fear, confusion. She forced them away and concentrated on just breathing.

" - have to do that?" she heard Bobby say, his voice echoing in her head.

"It worked, didn't it?" said a woman - Olivia. Alex opened her eyes. When had Olivia come back? She was staring up at the ugly ceiling, the harsh lights making her head hurt. She started to sit up, and several pairs of hands gently helped her to her feet.

"What happened?" she asked, not quite recognizing the sound of her own voice. It was raspy, like she'd been strangled.

"Raum almost killed you," Bobby said quietly.

"That's what he wants you to think," Munch said, stepping between Bobby and Olivia. His hands were cool as he placed them on either side of Alex's jaw, his fingers feeling down along her throat as he looked in her eyes. "Raum was trying to scare you."

"It worked," Alex rasped, frowning slightly as Munch continued to touch her.

"Don't worry, not even Raum can kill with just words," he said. "Most magick requires physical contact to work." He paused and there was a weight in his eyes, a darkness, a fear, that caught her off guard. He muttered something under his breath, and then stepped away. "I wouldn't suggest talking to him again, though. It seems that you're both pretty open to suggestion and I wouldn't want to find out just what he _can_ do."

"How do you - " Alex stopped. The roughness was gone from her voice. The squad room was silent as she watched Munch make his way across the room, a stiffness across his shoulders, his head bowed, guarded, waiting. "_Holy crap._" She took a deep breath, trying to calm her suddenly racing heart, and winced. "What, you couldn't fix the rib, too?" He turned to face them.

"What's going on, John?" Cragen asked, eyeing his detective warily. Munch looked at each of them in turn, his eyes lingering on his partner. The confusion on Fin's face was dissolving into a dark mix of realization, anger and betrayal. Munch seemed to be searching for the right words, but Bobby found them first.

"He's a witch."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Note - By popular request (okay it was one person, but I like the idea. Thanks Sage) I'm including a neat little Q & A segment before some chapters. If I have time, and get enough reviews to warrant it, it may be every chapter, once a week, or just when I get a really good question. If you don't like this, fine, skip ahead to the good stuff and blame ShadowSage2 - it was their idea! _giggles insanely_

Okay, just FYI, I'm not going to give away the plot, twists, key elements or the ending, so don't bother asking how it ends. Otherwise, have at me!

ShadowSage - Great idea, thanks again. I'm glad you're enjoying this so much. Hearing such great things make me want to write better. A climax? sly grin Yes, I can safely say a climax is coming. Am I Wiccan? Not really, no. I just like doing research and I'm pretty good a BS-ing what I can't find out. As it gets more into the witchcraft part, that'll probably become more obvious.

The X-Pig - Glad you enjoyed it. I laughed outloud when I finished that sentence. It was too perfect.

TriStateCopFan - Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm actually looking forward to the end, but only because this began as a twenty page idea and has exploded into a full-blown novel. Sheesh, I cannot write _short_ stories!

Rach - Hello! Good to see you too. Thanks for the review. Hope this is soon enough for you. Tootle-oo! (Sorry about the cheesy rhyming, it's very late)

Shell - Thanks, glad you like it. I pride myself on my originality.

08Starbaby08 - Wait no more, the chapter has come! Thank you for your support.

Sw33tangelgrl - YES! That's what I love to hear. It's no fun when you see it coming.

KendraC - I'm givin' 'er all she's got, Cap'n. We got no more dilithium crystals! Really, I'm working as fast as I can, but I've got a job, you know. It's not nearly as much fun as this, though. I hope you're not really confused. Hopefully, things'll straighten out in the next few chapters.

Strawberry-ksc - Of course Munch knows what's going on - he's a witch - er, warlock. I've actually been planning that from the start. And yes, Raum _is_ a jerk (among other things). I'm glad his words creep you out - wait'll they meet him! Thank you - twenty, woohoo!

netherfield - Thank you!

justawriter - Thanks, I try to update twice a week; Friday and Monday.

Claire M C - Thank you very much. I was hoping it would make sense after the fact (as much sense as the situation could make, anyway).

TrinityWildcat - Thanks for checking it out and saying such nice things. Maybe I will de-lurk one of these days. And I haven't just _seen_ THE KISS, I bought the DVD!

* * *

"Actually, we prefer the term 'warlock'," Munch said, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "And before somebody says it, because I know one of you will, I couldn't have prevented any of the things that happened." He cast his eyes downward. "Except Kia's death. I never should have asked for her help." 

"Who was she?" Alex found herself asking.

"The head of my coven," he said, and his voice caught as he added, "My friend."

"I'm sorry," Alex said, and she meant it. She glanced around at the others, surprised by the hostile looks on Elliot, Fin, Cragen and even Olivia's faces. Sledge had backed away and was practically hiding behind Dr. Huang, who was scowling at Munch. Bobby was observing again, his face absolutely blank. Alex cleared her throat. "So, what do we do now, burn him at the stake?" For a second, she thought Fin was going to go find some matches, but then they all turned away, leaving Munch standing alone at the far end of the room. With a glance at her partner, Alex and Bobby made their way over to him.

"Well, that could have gone better," Munch said dryly.

"They'll get over it," Alex said. "Now, what can you do about this curse?"

"I told you, nothing. You have to do it. I can help; we're all going to have to help, but you have to lead the ritual."

"Ritual?" Alex asked, swallowing hard. He nodded.

"Don't worry, there's no demon calling or animal sacrifices. You just draw a circle and spread some salt. It's all very repetitive, very formulaic. Not even Elliot can screw it up."

"Is Raum like you, a warlock?" Bobby asked. Munch nodded.

"A warlock, yes, but not like me. He works outside the laws of the Council, outside the laws of nature, sometimes. He's one of the most powerful, most dangerous, most deserving of his name." They glanced up as Fin approached.

"How long?" he asked, refusing to look at his partner.

"Long time," Munch replied. "Long before I came here."

"And it never occurred to you to tell me? I'm your partner, John, your friend." He finally made eye contact, not even bothering to hide the anger, the pain in his eyes.

"I know, and I've lost friends, I've lost wives, because of this, because they couldn't handle what I can do, what I am. I didn't want to risk losing you, too." They just stared at each other for a moment.

"Do you have any idea how queer that sounded?" Fin finally said, shaking his head as a cockeyed smile lifted the corner of his mouth. Munch laughed, the tightness across his shoulders easing. There was nothing worse than the thought of losing your partner; Alex knew that first hand. She glanced up at him, but he was a million miles away. Without thinking, she reached up and laid her hand against his cheek, letting his stubble scrape along her palm. He looked down at her, a question in his eyes, one that she couldn't answer. Was it just the incubus driving her to touch him, or something more? She didn't know.

His hand caught hers as she started to turn away, bringing it up to his lips. He planted a gentle kiss upon the back of her hand, then let her go and walked away.

"Okay, um, the curse, yes," she said to Munch, suddenly finding it difficult to convert her jumbled thoughts into a coherent sentence. She kept glancing at Bobby as he dragged his chair a little closer and straddled it, his faded jeans tight across his thighs, his arms resting on the back of the chair. Irritated with herself, she looked away. "Let's fix this."

* * *

"There's only two problems that I can foresee," Munch said. "Foresee being the key word. If Raum decides he wants to play, there's no telling what could happen." He'd gathered them together around a central pair of desks, on which he'd spread out the various magickal implements that he'd brought. There was the silver and black dagger, a tarnished silver goblet, a flat black stone about the size of her palm with a star drawn upon it in white paint, and a long, thin, slightly twisted stick of some pale colored wood. Beside these were a bag of sea salt and an assortment of dried plants, some she recognized, like a faded white iris blossom and a branch of holly with a few withered red berries still attached, but most were just dead leaves to her. 

"All the officers found by the lake was a handful of pea gravel," Alex said. "I think we can assume he's not done with us." She sighed angrily. "Okay, what are the foreseeable problems?"

"The first is the incubus. It needs to be fully sated for this to work." All eyes turned to her and Bobby and she felt the color creep up her neck.

"Well, I think we can take care of that later, don't you?" she said caustically. "What else?"

"The second is just numbers; we don't have enough people."

"How many do we need?" Olivia asked, glancing around. Alex did her own quick count. Her and Bobby, Munch and Fin, Sledge, Elliot and Olivia, Cragen and Dr. Huang made nine.

"Twelve," Munch said. "Thirteen if you count Detective Goren. He can't actively participate since he's the center of the spell. And four have to be women."

"Why four?" Alex asked.

"One for each of the compass points. Traditionally, a coven is supposed to be entirely female. Women are simply better at this than men, they have a closer connection with nature, but we don't have that luxury. So four will have to do."

"So, two more women make ten," Olivia said, taking Bobby out of the equation. "We just need two men."

"Sorry to disappoint," Cragen said suddenly, his arms folded across his chest as he stared down at the table, "but I can't help you. I've got a department to run, and I - I just can't."

"That's all right, Captain," Munch said, picking up the tarnished goblet and pretending to rub at a spot to hide the frown on his face.

"Count me out, too. I'm Catholic," Elliot said, almost defensively.

"And I'm a Jew, what's your point?" Munch replied. Elliot scowled.

"I'm _not_ going to Hell for him," he said, jabbing his finger in Bobby's direction. "This - this witchcraft is - is -"

"Evil?" Bobby supplied. Elliot narrowed his eyes, but didn't correct him. "Detective Munch, isn't it true that magick itself is neither good nor evil? That distinction lies in the person using it, in their intent, whether they mean to harm or heal with their power?"

"That's right," Munch said.

"So, as long as your intent was good, you'd have nothing to - to fear." Elliot smirked at Bobby.

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions," he said. Alex wanted to shake her head at him. Didn't he realize that Bobby had stepped into that one a little too easily? She felt it time to put her two cents in.

"Speaking of Hell, how does the Church feel about divorce?" she asked, watching him stiffen. "Unless your wife was cheating on you, I think it's a sin." She glanced at Bobby, who nodded. "Or are you having your marriage annulled?"

"And on what grounds?" Bobby asked, stepping out of his place in the circle to inch closer to Elliot. "You didn't understand your vows? She deceived you? She coerced you?" Alex circled around behind the silent Elliot.

"Or were you planning to remain celibate for the rest of your life?" She cast a pointed glance at Olivia. "Adultery is a mortal sin, isn't it? Even with the best of intentions?"

"All right, you two, just stop it," Olivia said, stepping between them. She grabbed Elliot and hustled him away. Alex smoothed the front of her blouse and tried to look repentant, but it was hard. God, did she love doing that! Especially to someone as self-righteous as Elliot. Once everyone had more or less turned their attention back to Munch, she glanced up at her partner and shared a private smirk.

"Okay, is there anyone else who feels unable to participate?" Munch asked. He grimaced as Sledge raised his hand. "Any particular reason why?"

"Magick makes me uncomfortable."

"It makes _you_ uncomfortable?" Alex asked. "How do you think _he_ feels?" Sledge glanced at Bobby, but he looked like he couldn't care less. It wasn't until he returned his eyes to her that he seemed genuinely sorry.

"Sorry, Eames, I just can't." He walked away. Alex snagged Bobby's sleeve as he started after Sledge. She shook her head.

"Let him go." With a sigh, she turned to their shrinking group. "Is anyone going to do this, or do we need to find another option?" She didn't need to see the look in Munch's eyes to know that there _was_ no other option.

"I'll do it," Fin said, sounding like someone was twisting his arm, but Alex had the feeling his scowl was mostly for show.

"For the record, we should all have CAT - scans," Dr. Huang said with a smile, "but otherwise, count me in."

"Me too," Olivia said, returning without Elliot. Alex did a quick recount.

"Okay, that means we need two women and five men. Could we call your coven?" she asked Munch.

"No," he replied, rather quickly. "They're ... in mourning, for Kia." There was more to it than that, but Alex decided not to push. He had the right not to endanger his friends.

"Okay. Let's come up with some names, then, and start making calls."

* * *

"What about Detective Welch?" Olivia asked. Fin shook his head. 

"You kidding? She won't let her kids go trick-or-treating or hunt Easter eggs 'cause it's too pagan. What about Melinda Warner, the ME?"

"She and her husband are on vacation, in Hawaii." With a sigh, Olivia pushed herself back from the desk. "That's it then, I'm out of ideas." She groaned and stretched, the sound of her spine popping filling the room like trees cracking in the dead of winter. "God, I wish Alex was here. She'd have really gotten a kick out of all this."

"Who?" Alex asked.

"Our old ADA, Alexandra Cabot," Elliot said. He'd rejoined the group, even making half-hearted suggestions, but was still adamant about not participating. Casually, he stepped up behind Olivia and began to rub her shoulders. "She had to go into Witness Protection a while back." He sighed. "She was a great attorney."

"Didn't the two of you have a thing?" Olivia asked, her eyes closed as she enjoyed her massage.

"Didn't you?" he replied, and they smirked at each other as he rubbed her neck. After a moment, he glanced over at Alex. "So, who've you got so far?"

"Well," Alex said, her eyes raking over the list in one short sweep, "I'm pretty sure Deakins will agree; he'd do just about anything for his 'Dynamic Duo'." She heard Munch snort, but ignored it. "Carver won't be so easy to convince, nor Logan, nor Bishop, for that matter, but we really don't have a choice. We're still two guys and a girl short." Olivia looked up at Elliot, who pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned.

"Okay," he said with a sigh, "let's call Novak." Across the room, Fin groaned.

"What?" Alex asked, glancing around. "Who is he?"

"_She_ is our current ADA," Munch said dourly, "and a bigger pain in the ass than I am."

"And that's sayin' somethin'," Fin said. He glanced over at Alex. "Don't you two have any friends?"

"Not really."

"We don't play well with others," Bobby added, making her smile. "Besides, after ... what Raum did, we should be careful who we endanger." The room was silent as his words sank in. Finally, Munch spoke.

"Okay, let's make those calls and get our expendable friends over here. Maybe they know some guys who won't be missed."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	22. Chapter 22

Author's Note - A great big THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed. I didn't have time to make a comment for everyone, sorry, but I do really appreciate hearing how much you like this.

Questions:

From justawriter and 08Starbaby08 - How did you come up with the idea for this? Well ... it started with an idea about a reluctant incubus (not sure _where_ that came from). I tried writing the story with my own characters, a lonely young woman and a geeky middle-aged guy with obsessive-complusive disorder who can't stand to be touched who was cursed by his vengeful witch of a neighbor because he wouldn't participate in her fertility ritual ... but it never went anywhere. I tried tweaking the plot, the characters, but nothing worked. And I couldn't get the idea out of my head - it demanded to be written.

Then, one Sunday night, I was watching Criminal Intent and the answer hit me like a bolt of lightning. What if Bobby was the incubus? What if SVU was called in to handle the case? What if ... and here you have it.

Of course, I started this right around the time I had my wisdom teeth removed, so I was pretty high on painkillers. Do you think that had anything to do with it? LOL

Sw33tangelgrl - How did I find all this incubus info? Google, the writer's best friend. I love the internet. I've learned more surfing the web than I ever did in high school.

And for the first-time reviewers I noticed:

Lina-Baggins/Gemstar - Your review brought tears to my eyes. Thank you so much.

brynnamorgan - Wow, I am honored. I figure that there are good witches and bad witches, just like there are good doctors and bad doctors, good christians and bad christians. I hold people accountable for their actions, not what they do or believe. And yes, Raum is one twisted puppy. He'd probably be a killer even if he wasn't a witch. Thanks for letting me know. I think I'm going to leave it warlock anyway, since this is just a fantasy. I've got this whole curse removal ritual all planned out in my head and, realistic or not, I think it's going to be great. If I have any other questions, though, I'll ask, thanks.

Now for the part you've all been waiting for - my nervous breakdown as I try not to let you down. _laughs_ I am a little worried that, with the introduction of so many new characters, some of which I don't really know very well, the characters might slip. I've done as much research as I can, but I was like, ten, when Logan was on the original show, so the only time I've seen him was that guest star spot in CI. I hope I've got him close. And, sorry if this chapter seems a little short - the next onelooksto behuge. Anyway ... enjoy!

* * *

They'd tried to say as little as possible over the phone. Something like this was best explained in person, not that there'd ever been something like this to explain. Phrases like 'urgent' and 'life or death' managed to get everyone to agree to show up. Now, they were milling around the squad room, waiting for Logan and filling the vacuum of information with wild and crazy theories, none of which were as insane as the truth. 

Alex stood in the break room, leaning her forehead against the cool window pane, while the soft _scritch_ of broom on floor distracted her from the nervous fluttering in her stomach. She rolled her head to one side to peer at Sledge through her curtain of hair as he swept up the broken glass with short, deliberate strokes.

"I hate being useless," he explained, glancing at her. "The least I can do is sweep the floor."

"I'm sorry I jumped down your throat," Alex said, stepping back from the window as her breath fogged the glass. "You have every right to stay out of this." He crossed the room and emptied the dustpan into the trash before turning to her.

"I've been racking my brain, trying to come up with some character-defining moment from my childhood, some event that scarred me forever, but the truth is, I just don't like magick. It sounds petty and selfish, and I feel like a horrible little troll for refusing to help, but ..." He gave her a helpless look and shook his head. "I can't." Alex didn't respond. If he was waiting for a 'Gee, it's okay,' he was going to be there a while. Like she said, he had the right not to help, and she had the right to be angry about it.

"Detective Logan is here," Dr. Huang said, stepping into the doorway. Alex nodded and licked her dry lips. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, sure," she said, "I've had dreams like this, except I'm usually naked, and not in a good way." Huang looked at the floor to hide what could have been a smirk.

"What are you going to tell them?" Sledge asked. Alex shrugged.

"The truth, I guess."

* * *

Alex strolled into the room, her heels clicking confidently on the cement floor, and every head in the room turned. Her eyes searched in vain for Bobby, then gravitated to the one person she didn't know, a pale-faced woman with a thin nose and a sour expression, her golden-red hair complimenting what was otherwise an unflattering dark green suit. Walking over, she put on her most disarming smile and held out her hand. 

"Hi, I'm Alex Eames."

"Casey Novak," the young woman replied with a firm, short handshake. "Now, what's going on?" Alex felt her smile slip. She took a bracing breath and turned to the entire group.

"First, I want to thank you for coming at such short notice. I know this is - "

"Could you get to the point?" Logan said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against a desk. From the bags under his eyes, it looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, but his hair was gelled to gleaming, immovable perfection. No wonder he was the last to arrive. Her look must have been less than friendly, because he gave her a rakish half-smile. "This is a matter of 'life or death', after all."

"Fine," Alex snapped, "but I don't want to hear a word until I'm finished." She didn't even give herself time to wonder if she'd overreacted before launching into her hastily prepared explanation. Sweeping her gaze back and forth across the far wall, she avoided looking at any of them. Whatever they were thinking, she didn't want to know until she was done. She finished with, "... and that's why we called you." The room was utterly silent for a beat, then Logan began to laugh; a loud, slow, braying laugh that echoed from the walls. Alex just let him. Carver stood up and grabbed his briefcase.

"_This_ is why you dragged us down here in the middle of the night? Not amusing, Detective," he said, taking a step toward the door.

"You're not - not leaving so soon, are you, Councilor?" Bobby stood in the middle of the hallway, his hands tucked in his jeans pockets. His dark eyes swept the gathered detectives and lawyers before rising to her. "While you were out here telling jokes ... the curse came alive again." He grimaced in pain and Alex allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as everyone in the room tensed, the 'new recruits' drawing startled breaths as first stirrings of the incubus touched them. It danced over her skin, light as a feather, gentle, seductive, playful.

"Perfect timing," she said. She glanced around, hoping no one noticed the huskiness of her voice, but they were all watching Bobby. She cleared her throat and continued, "I told them what was going on, but I think some people may need a little convincing." As one, Elliot, Olivia, Fin, Munch and Huang rose from their seats and backed away. Alex wanted to applaud them as the color drained from Bishop and Logan's faces. Novak, it seemed, was already as pale as she could get. Deakins turned to Alex.

"You're really serious about this?" he asked.

"Deadly serious, Captain," she replied, looking, not at him, but at Bobby.

"All right then," he said after a moment, "I'm in. I'll do it."

"Me, too." Alex raised her eyebrows at Bishop, who just shrugged and looked away. Now that was a surprise. She had expected Bishop to be one of the hold-outs. Alex turned to Carver.

"What will it take for you to believe us?" she asked, point blank. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"I don't know," he said. "You're asking me to accept something so unbelievable, I am having trouble even comprehending what you've said."

"Will you stay anyway?" Alex asked, rubbing a weary hand across her forehead. She turned pleading eyes upon Logan and Novak. "Stay, and you'll see, this is no joke."

"Why not?" Logan said with a shrug. "Nothing on TV this time of night anyway. You guys got any coffee?"

"I have court in the morning," Novak said stiffly. "Detective Goren's arraignment, I believe. Can I assume you're going for an insanity plea?"

"We're not prosecuting this," Cragen said from the doorway of his office. Novak spun around.

"The hell we're not!" she exclaimed. "He raped those women; we have the DNA to prove it."

"Katrina Anderson already admitted that, while it wasn't entirely consensual, it also wasn't rape," Olivia said. "Given the opportunity, the other two will change their stories as well." Novak rounded on Olivia.

"I can't believe you, of all people, are going along with this absurd scheme to cover up his indiscretions." Olivia stepped away from the wall. Elliot gently laid his fingertips on her shoulder, but she moved out from under his touch.

"It _is_ absurd, isn't it?" she said, stepping closer to the ADA. "Downright ridiculous. Insane. Crazy. Unbelievable." With each word, she crowded closer, driving Novak backward. "If we were just trying to protect one of our own, don't you think we'd have come up with something a little more plausible? Something that couldn't be proven one way or the other?"

"You can't prove this," Novak said, planting her feet and taking a stand.

"Oh, yeah?" Olivia said with a crooked smile. She grabbed Novak by the front of her green suit and shoved. Caught off guard, she stumbled backward - right into Bobby's surprised arms. One hand gripped her waist, the other rested just below her shoulder as he set her back on her feet. She was breathing hard, but whether that was from the incubus or just a reaction to the attack, Alex couldn't tell. The curse was having no other effect on them, as he was only touching clothed areas of her body. It needed skin to skin contact, and she couldn't see him deliberately doing that to anyone.

"You fight dirty, Detective Benson," Bobby said. Scowling, Novak pushed his hand away from her hip. Their hands only touched for a second, but it was long enough. Novak lurched away from him, almost crashing into Olivia as she tried to escape. A rather unpretty blush was creeping up her neck, leaving scarlet blotches on her fair skin.

"Was that proof enough for you?" Olivia asked. Her eyes were like dark stones, glittering, cold, hard, as she stared down the gasping ADA.

"Leave her alone," Bobby said in that husky, rumbling voice of his. Alex watched as he reigned in the incubus, the strain evident on his face as the air temperature seemed to drop about ten degrees. Everyone relaxed as breathing became easier, everyone except him. He stepped forward, his heavy gaze fixed on Olivia. Novak backed away, putting the desks between them, but he didn't appear to notice. Appear being the key word. Alex couldn't imagine how much it was hurting him to have people, especially women, afraid of him. And yet, once again, he was willing to bear a little pain to prove his point. He leaned down into Olivia's face. "The only person allowed to use me to scare people is me, understand?" She swallowed hard, but raised her chin defiantly.

"You don't scare me, Detective," she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. "We both know you won't do anything." Don't be so sure of that, Alex thought with a bitter smile. She'd once watched him take a knife to his own hand to unsettle a guy with a fear of blood.

"And why is that, do you think?" he asked. "Because I'm too ... noble, or because your angry partner is just dying for another piece of me?" He pulled back and cocked his head to the side. "That could be interesting. We could find out if this thing inside me likes men as much as - as women." Alex glanced at Elliot, who was suddenly looking a lot less hostile. "Something tells me he's not going to jump to your rescue quite as eagerly as you might have been counting on." He leaned toward her again, like he was going to kiss her. That was it. Alex'd had enough.

"Bobby, can I have a word with you?" she said through gritted teeth. He eyed Olivia for another moment.

"No one is going to be bullied into helping me," he said, then turned away. Alex wandered to the far corner of the room and waited for him to join her.

"You have to stop attacking these people," she said quietly. "They're just trying to help." He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and frowned at his shoes.

"Shoving an Assistant District Attorney at me was not 'helping'."

"It started way before that. You've been on guard against them since ... since we quieted the curse - Is that what this is all about?" He stopped staring at the floor and looked over her head instead; a _vast_ improvement. It made it very hard to read his face when she couldn't see his eyes, and he knew it.

"They look at me, Eames, like this is my fault," he said. "They wonder how I could - could do that to you ... how you could still speak to me afterward."

"No they don't. They understand that there wasn't any other way. Besides - " She looked down at the ground, not sure if her eyes would mirror her words. " - it's not like it meant anything." It hurt more to say it than she had expected. Deep down she knew she was right - it _couldn't _mean anything, but as a woman, as Bobby's friend, as a human being, it had to mean something.

"Well," Bobby said after a moment, "as long as everyone understands. I think I'll go back to my ... cell ... before someone gets hurt." She glanced up as he walked away, his shoulders stooped. He looked ... defeated. She started to chase after him, but Novak got to him first. He stopped just inside the hallway, his knees bent slightly as he tried not to loom over the young attorney. That was bad. She always knew something was eating at him when he became self-conscious of his height. Edging closer, she tried to catch what she was saying to him, but gave up when Logan stepped up next to her.

"Damn, sweetheart," he said with a crooked smile, "you got the man's balls in a vice and you just keep cranking on the handle." She blinked at him.

"Thank you for that colorful metaphor," she said. "Now, what are you talking about?"

"You didn't see the look on his face, did you?" He shook his head. "What you said, about it not meaning anything - That's cold. 'It didn't mean anything' is what you say to a girl after a booty call, not to your partner, not to someone like that." He jabbed his finger in Bobby's direction.

"And what would you know about it?"

"I've had a lot of partners, and believe me, you're damn lucky to find somebody you can tolerate. What you two got, the chemistry, the silent communication, most marriages never have that."

"None of mine ever did," Munch said as he walked past.

"What are you saying?" Alex asked, hesitantly letting her eyes wander back over to her partner. Novak smiled at him and nodded, then turned away. He glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes looking right through her, then disappeared down the hall.

"What am I saying?" Logan repeated, making her jump. He smirked. "Who knows. Getting into people's heads is your specialty, remember, not mine."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Detective," Alex said with a wry smile. "Major Case could probably use a man like you."

"Oh, but then I wouldn't get to take the ferry to work," he said with mock disappointment. "You know how much I like boats." Their mirth vanished as Sledge came stumbling into the room, his face ashen.

"What happened?" Olivia asked, the first to reach his side. He stepped away from her, from all of them as they crowded closer, finally backing into the corner. Alex shoved her way to the front.

"Get back," she said in a tone that brooked no argument, "give him some room." They shuffled backward. Elliot shoved a chair in their direction. "Here, sit down before you fall down," she said, but he shook his head and leaned against the wall.

"It's nothing," he said, breathless, shaking, and trying to hide his face against his shoulder. "I'm okay, really. I - I'm not ... gay ... I'm not." A confused murmur ran through the others. Alex reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, a quick glance at the bulge in the front of his slacks confirming her fears.

"He touched you."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	23. Chapter 23

Author's Note - Once again, thanks to all who reviewed. Now, on to questions and comments that I have to comment on.

TriStateCopFan - You really see Elliot as a homophobe? I must have searched the net for an hour and couldn't find much evidence to corroborate your statement. He has been a little insensitive a few times when it comes to gender/sexual identity, but I wouldn't think a guy could get as physical as he does with other guys if he was homophobic. Just my observation and thinking, and a little explanation into this next chapter.

TrinityWildcat - A resolution? You mean I have to end this? Nooo! Need ... Bobby ... _gasp_ ... _pant_ ... _drool_ ... Anyway, I see this as at least twenty more chapters, maybe thirty, but I hope not. It's Law & Order, not War and Peace.

ShadowSage - _Hmmm_, I'll try to be more careful. It made sense to me. Of course, considering the plot, that's not saying much. Casey? I love Casey (_end sarcasm_). Eh, most of the time Novak drives me up the wall. Now Bishop, on the other hand ... I have _big_ plans for her (_Cackles evilly). _The pickin's are pretty slim, aren't they? I thought about using a smaller cast (probably should have, as keeping all these people in character is a nightmare), but after the hours I spent working out the dynamics for this ritual (charts, diagrams, lists, herbage), I wasn't about to change it. I miss Cabot, too.

Lina-Baggins/Gemstar - Thanks. I read your fic! It was really good. I keep meaning to leave a real review, but I have one of those stupid ISPs that only give you a certain number of hours a month, so I do most of my reading offline, and when I get back on, I forget to review. I will though! I'm hoping to leave at least one review for ever person who's reviewed mine ... one of these days ...

KendraC - Ten parts might have been a bit optimistic. It looks to be more like thirty. Once I get into a story, I've noticed that I tend to run on a bit, describing practically every moment. Maybe I should try to be more brief. The next time the incubus has to be sated, for example, could go something like this: 'Alex followed Bobby to his cell. Twenty minutes later, they returned to the squad room, tired, sweaty, aching in all the right places, and finally at peace.' What do you think? That would cut out, oh, two or three chapters, at least.

'_One major point that needs correcting: one of the victims commited suicide. They only have one other vic to talk with._'

Maybe warlocks really do prefer to be called witches, but I _know_ I got this one right. You're forgetting about the sketches. We have the vic that killed herself, the neighbor, and the two vics that came up with near identical sketches of Bobby when they worked with the sketch artists. It's in chapter two, I think. (Keep trying. Knowing that someone is just waiting for me to screw up will keep me on my toes.)

brynnamorgan - You're welcome. I'll look forward to reading it.

* * *

"It was an accident," Sledge said. "I wasn't watching, I came out of the break room, right into him. I - I'm not a homosexual. I'm not." He was barely speaking above a whisper. Alex glanced at each of the others, reading nothing but empathy on their faces; the only person Sledge needed to convince was himself.

"Of course you're not," Alex said, brushing a couple of stray hairs off his shoulder. "We already suspected the incubus wasn't very picky." She gave a forced laugh. "Bobby used that very threat to keep Stabler from giving him another black eye."

"As if," Elliot muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. Dr. Huang stepped forward, sliding between Deakins and Carver, to offer his professional opinion.

"The incubus promises sexual gratification," he said, sounding every inch the head-shrinker. "Being aroused by that, no matter what the source, should not make you question your sexuality. From what I understand, it is a very powerful, sometimes irresistible, physical sensation, and a physical reaction is completely normal."

"But are you sure?" Sledge asked. "This - this happened to one of you?" His blue eyes were almost black as they darted from one man's face to the next and found no solace. "It _is_ just me." A jumble of emotions played across Elliot's scowl as he took one step forward, then another, a kind of thoughtful swagger. He rolled up his sleeves, exposing a tattoo on his right forearm, and tucked his tie into the gap between the second and third buttons on his shirt.

"You owe me one," he said, thumping Sledge on the shoulder before stepping past Alex and heading down the hall. Fin, Huang, and Logan peered after him. He glanced back and mouthed the words, _How bad can it be?_

"He's not going to ..." Logan said, a frown creasing his heavy brow.

"Yeah, he is," Olivia said, turning away and wandering over to her desk. The others soon followed her lead, perching themselves in chairs and on the edges of desks, watching the red second hand race around the face of the clock. Nearly three minutes passed before Elliot appeared at the far end of the corridor, his swagger replaced by a stiffer walk. The results of his 'experiment' were evident.

"It's not just you," he said to Sledge. "That _thing_ inside Goren could give a dead man a hard on." He shuddered and made his way over near Olivia and leaned on the desk beside her, his palms flat against the faux wood surface as he hung his head.

"What happened?" Alex heard Olivia ask. Elliot was silent for a moment.

"Nothing I want to talk about." Olivia started to reach out and put her hand on his shoulder, but he sidestepped before she could. "Don't," he said, his mercurial gaze shifting from the floor to her shins and back again, "you'll only make it worse." At first, Olivia seemed torn between hurt and flattered, then she smiled and slid down off the desk.

"Come on," she said, stepping past her partner, "let's go see if we can't do something about that substantial problem of yours." Elliot inhaled sharply. "I'm sure there's some ice in the freezer," she added with a smirk. He gave a low, pained chuckle.

"You're cruel, Liv," he said, but followed her down the hall and into the break room, closing the door behind them. Smiling, Alex turned back to Sledge, her grin fading as she raised her eyes to his.

"I'll do it," he said, "I'll help with the spell." She covered his hand with hers and gave a gentle squeeze.

"You don't have to, Sledge, really - "

"Yes, Eames, I do." He took a deep breath, hunting for those elusive words again. "I don't know you real well, but from what I've heard, and what I've seen, you do take good care of your partner - of Goren, and you will continue to take care of him, every night, for as long as this continues." He swallowed hard. "That was the most _horrible_ feeling, that helplessness, and I couldn't live with myself if I had even the smallest part in making you suffer through that one second longer than necessary." She just stared at him a moment, now searching for her own words. Plenty were coming to her, but not any that she felt comfortable speaking aloud.

"Thank you ... Edward," she said at last, and turned away. What she couldn't tell him, what she didn't even want to hear herself say, was that she didn't think of it as some horrific ordeal to be suffered again and again. She wasn't exactly looking forward to having sex with him, but now that the awkward first time was out of the way, she didn't foresee any major hang-ups. After all, humans had been having sex for forever.

Taking a cleansing breath, she squared her shoulders and made her way across the room, to where Munch had gathered Novak, Bishop, Carver, Deakins and Logan.

" - can't guarantee their safety," Munch was saying, "but we need two more guys for this to work."

"One," Alex corrected. "Sledge changed his mind." Munch arched an eyebrow.

"How'd you manage that?"

"Empathy is a great motivator." He nodded thoughtfully.

"Maybe I should try that on the kid who delivers my paper. I swear he just chucks them from the elevator." He chuckled and shook his head. "Anyway, we need one guy who can handle this, preferably a cop, but anyone we can trust -" He eyed Novak, a point which was not lost on her. "- would work."

"I know a guy over at the three six," Logan said, drawing a hand back and forth across the side of his jaw. "Kind of a wacko, but that might not be a bad thing, considering."

"How well do you know him?" Alex asked. Logan shrugged.

"We've had a few beers, shot some pool, so ... well enough, I guess." Munch nodded.

"It'll have to do; we need to wrap this up by four a.m. - for the sake of our pensions," he added in response to Novak's thinly arched eyebrow. To Logan, he said, "Call the guy."

"Don't bother," Elliot said, strolling back into the room, Olivia a few steps behind him. He stepped up into their little group, between Carver and Munch, and stood with his hands in his pockets, his 'problem' apparently taken care of. He wasn't wearing the look of a man who'd just had ice in his drawers, though. That small, lazy smile, of which he probably wasn't even aware, spoke volumes toward another conclusion.

Alex glanced at Olivia, who had taken a seat at her desk. The dark-haired woman lounged in her chair, one arm draped over the back as she laughed at something Fin was saying to her. Whatever Elliot was smiling about, she felt no guilt about it. Shrugging it off as none of her business, yet filing it away just in case, she turned back to Elliot.

"Okay, I'll bite," she said. "Why do we not need to bother?"

"I might have overreacted before," he said. "Your little spell doesn't sound like anything a few hundred Hail Mary's won't fix." He gave a crooked, self-depreciating grin. "I'm hardly the Pope, after all."

"All right," Alex said, "that's everybody." She turned to Munch. "Let's hear how this is going to work."

* * *

"I'm sorry, can you explain it to me?" Alex and Fin both groaned aloud, Munch rolled his eyes and Elliot slammed his fist down on the desk, making Novak jump. "I'm sorry," she snapped, "but I don't understand. Which one am I supposed to choose?"

"It doesn't matter," Munch said again, "just pick one." Huffily, she snatched up the black rock with the white star on it. "Now, was that so hard?" he said with an exaggerated sigh. She made as if she were going to throw it at him. He just turned to Olivia. "Your turn." Her eyes swept over the remaining implements: the goblet and the stick. Bishop had already taken the dull black and silver dagger. Alex watched from the side, a little peeved that she was going to be stuck with whatever Olivia didn't pick, but Munch was running the show; she'd do as he said. Olivia hesitated over the twisty stick-thing, then took the battered silver cup.

"Gee, just what I always wanted," Alex said, picking up the stick. The wood was pale and smooth, some kind of willow or ash, maybe. His eyes hooded, Munch smiled patiently.

"Sometimes, the best match is not one we choose, but one that refuses all others until only we are left." She blinked at him.

"You read that on a fortune cookie or somethin'?" Fin asked, bringing a slight scowl to Munch's thin face.

"Did you _have_ to say that?" he said, peering over his glasses at his partner.

"'Scuse me, Confucius," Fin said with a good-natured sneer. "I didn't mean to spoil the mood, but us guys are about bored to tears over here. When do we get somethin' to play with?"

"I think I got a live power line around here somewhere," Munch said, spreading another handful of assorted leaves on the desk.

"That's enough you two," Cragen said from his office doorway. "You're wasting time." He cast a meaningful glance toward the clock. It was almost three in the morning. Alex groaned and rubbed her face.

"Sorry, Captain," Munch said, but behind his smoky glasses, his eyes were unrepentant. As Cragen returned to his office, Munch turned to Fin. "Since you're so eager to help out, why don't you pick first this time?"

"Pick what?" Fin asked, standing up and frowning at the dried foliage on the desk. "You know, when most people kill a house plant, they throw it out and buy a new one."

"Ha, ha, ha, you're killing me here," Munch said, deadpan. "Just pick one, will you?" Fin made a face as he looked the plants over, then grabbed one, muttering something about grass clippings and Martha Stewart. "Elliot, if you would." Elliot picked up a dark green stem with oval leaves and withered yellow flowers. Munch raised his eyebrows. "Interesting," he said, making everyone in the room peer curiously at the plant.

"Oh, no you don't," Elliot said, now holding his plant at arm's length. "You don't just go '_Hmmm, interesting_' and expect that to be it. What's interesting?"

"Relax, Elliot, that yellow evening primrose is not going to bite you," he said, fighting a smirk. "It's just that every one of these plants has a meaning, an energy, a magick power, if you will. That one happens to be hunting, which makes sense, considering your line of work. I figured you pick a different one, is all; I guess it's a good thing the choice is yours." Still frowning, Elliot sat down, delicately laying the primrose on the desk before him. "Liv?" He gestured toward the desk. Olivia bit her lip.

"What does this one mean?" she asked, pointing at the holly branch. Munch shook his head.

"That's not the way it works," he said. "If you want to know, I'll tell you after you've chosen." He sighed and clasped his hands behind his back. "In a real coven, everyone knows what these plants do, and they choose accordingly. We don't have time for even a crash course in herbology, so we're just going to wing it. Trust me, in this business, luck is far more powerful than planning." Olivia shook her head and selected a plant with a thick, heavy stalk, hairy-looking leaves and white flowers tipped with pink. "That's masterwort; funny name, but it is drawn to and promotes courage. Quite fitting, if you ask me. Dr. Huang?"

"My great-grandmother knew a bit of ancient Chinese medicine," he said, eyeing the desk. "She could stop a nose bleed with one kind of leaf, cure a headache with another." He shrugged. "Who would have thought." He took a green-gold cedar branch, running it across his fingers almost reverently.

"Big surprise," Munch said quietly. "Cedar's power is healing." The room was silent for a moment. "Okay, Alex, you're next."

"Gee, I thought I was going to be last again," she said, stepping forward. The damn butterflies were back. Now why would picking a hunk of dead vegetation off a desk make her nervous? Because it revealed something about her, maybe something she didn't want revealed. The last three had been dead on; hunting, courage, healing - "What does Fin's plant mean?" Munch hadn't said, she realized suddenly. Maybe it wouldn't help, but she had to know.

"That's a sweet pea," Munch said with a smirk. "It means friendship."

"That explains why I don't feel the need to kick your bony ass into the street for letting me pick somethin' called a sweet pea. Why didn't you just hand me a T-shirt that says _John's Bitch_ to go with it?"

"Good idea," Munch said. "I'll get one too that says _Fin's Witch_." He glanced in the Captain's direction. Cragen was still in his office, on the phone, but was watching his detectives with a scowl on his face. "Anyway, it's still your turn, Alex."

"Oh, to hell with it," she muttered under her breath, grabbing the holly branch. Holly leaves are nasty enough when green and soft, but once dry, they become downright vicious. One of the needle sharp points stabbed into Alex's hand. "Son of a bitch!" she cursed, dropping the branch on the floor. "I guess that was the wrong choice," she said, sticking her bleeding finger in her mouth.

"On the contrary," their resident warlock said. He sounded almost in awe. "Holly has a strong protective spirit, which awakened at your touch. You could make a pretty good witch, with training."

"Thanks," Alex said, carefully retrieving her plant from the floor. She winced as her rib gave a twinge of pain, "but I've had enough schooling for one lifetime." She regarded the holly for a moment. "So, it's power is protection, huh?" That wasn't so bad. They were supposed to 'Serve and protect', after all.

"A minor quality," Munch corrected, stepping around the end of the desk and beckoning to her, "shared by many plants: dogwood, honeysuckle, rosemary, oak, marigold, juniper ... the list is as long as my arm." She stopped in front of him, one eyebrow raised as he reached for her. "May I?" he asked. After a moment's hesitation she nodded and he slipped one hand inside her jacket, finding her hip and then sliding up under her shirt. She almost hit him with the business end of her holly branch, but then he pressed against her side and she hissed in pain. Nodding to himself, he closed his eyes and began to mumble again, his brow furrowed in concentration. Alex held her breath as she realized what he was doing. After a moment he removed his hand from her shirt and smiled. "Was that good for you?" he asked.

"Sorry, but I didn't feel anything," Alex replied, taking a slow deep breath, then another, not so tentatively. She leaned sideways, but there wasn't so much as a twinge. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he said with a wave of his hand. "I needed the practice." Before she could inquire as to what _that_ meant, he went on like nothing had happened. "Holly's distinctive power is balance, and you either have it, or need it." She gave a small snort and a lopsided smile.

"I think I _am_ it," she said, taking a seat beside Edward. _Balance_. It described her relationship with Bobby better than any word she'd used so far. She balanced him. She was the light in his darkness, the ying to his yang.

"Detective Bishop, would you care to go next?" Alex looked up with interest as the willowy detective approached the desk. She scanned the choices, then took a bundle of wide-bladed grass bound with a bread-tie. "That's sweetgrass," Munch said, his eyes following Bishop back across the room to where she'd been sitting. "It's used to call spirits."

"You don't say," Bishop replied, sounding like she couldn't be less interested. Munch regarded her a moment longer, then turned to Deakins.

"Captain Deakins?" Alex watched her boss try to reign in his exuberant grin as he stood, like a boy in a candy shop, trying to decide. He finally picked up a stiff green reed with broad, grass-like leaves and a knobby, pale orange root.

"This -" He brought the root up to his nose and smelled it. "- this is ginger, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's right. Ginger embodies power itself." Deakins nodded absently and sat down, his eyes closing as he smelled it again. Munch glanced over a Novak. "Well, Casey, do you think you can handle this? I know it's a little tricky - "

"Go to hell," she snapped, stalking over and snatching up a small bouquet of ragged blue wildflowers. Several pale, paper-thin petals fluttered to the ground.

"Easy there," Munch cautioned. "Wild chicory is rather delicate, but it has the power to overcome obstacles."

"Does that include scumbag defense attorneys?" Fin asked. Novak shot him a cold, venomous look. "Just a joke, girl, lighten up. We're supposed to be friends, remember?" he said, holding his piece of sweet pea up between them. Just about everyone chuckled, that kind of tense laugh you get from tired, on-edge people who just need a little relief.

"Detective Sledge, it's your turn." Edward stood up like he'd been poked with a pin and walked stiffly over to the desk. The pickings were getting rather slim; all that remained was the faded iris, some kind of evergreen branch with red berries, and two kinds of white flowers. One had clusters of small blossoms and thin, dark green oval leaves, and the other had star-like flowers on thin stalks.

"I've never understood why people like flowers so much," he said, taking the tree branch. "So, uh, what does this mean?" Munch glanced from the branch to him and back again.

"That's you," he said. Edward frowned, as did Alex and about half of the others. "Y-E-W," Munch clarified. "Irish yew, I believe. They grow in just about every graveyard in Ireland. The poisonous berries kept farmer from grazing their livestock on consecrated ground." Alex raised her eyebrows. It seemed Bobby wasn't the only one who collected useless trivia like baseball cards. "It's power is ... communication."

"That's not right." Everyone turned to look at Bishop, seated primly in her chair. "After all, Edward, you aren't exactly known for your conversation skills."

"Like I said with Alex," Munch said, glancing at her over the edge of his glasses, "you either have it, or need it." She shrugged and looked away. Edward didn't say anything, but sat rigidly beside Alex once again. "Okay, Detective Logan?"

"What, my turn already?" He looked down at his choices. "Looks like closing time on Valentine's Day at my local florist. You'd think the guy would know by now to save me something." He picked up the cluster of little flowers, an apprehensive look on his face as he waited for Munch's verdict.

"That's white alyssum. It helps moderate anger."

"Let me guess; that's the one you wanted to give me," Elliot said, toying with his primrose as he reclined in his chair.

"Are you saying I have an anger problem?" Logan asked, a frown on his face. Munch gave him a blank look.

"Remind us again why you were sent to Staten Island?" He turned to Elliot. "And you're about one perp slam away from joining Mr. Congeniality here." Elliot scowled.

"That would have to be a Congressman slam," Logan said after a moment, completely killing the tension that had been building.

"I think I like this guy," Elliot said with an abrasive laugh.

"Great, maybe after this is all over, the two of you can get together and violate a suspect's civil rights. Mr. Carver, I believe you're next." With an air of perfect solemnity, ADA Carver approached the desk, selected the faded purple iris, and returned to his seat. "The iris is associated with wisdom," Munch said, mostly for the group's benefit. Carver still looked out of it, like he was expecting to wake up safe and sound in his own bed any minute now. "Okay, that just leaves me and the edelweiss." He picked up the last bunch of flowers. "Now, I'm going to need some time - "

"Hang on," Alex said, "what does the edelweiss do?" Several others looked at him expectantly.

"Bulletproofing," he said shortly. "Now, I - "

"Wait, you tellin' me I didn't have to get shot last November?" Fin asked. "What else have you been keeping from us, Glenda?" Munch leaned forward onto the desk, his shoulders tight.

"You tell me how it would have looked had I come in one day and handed you all flowers." He fixed his partner with a heavy stare. "Do you think I haven't thought about that? Do you think a single day has passed that I haven't asked the Powers That Be to keep you all safe? I've tried, okay. You know those keychains I gave you three, four years ago for your birthdays? I begged my coven to work a protection charm on each one. I did my best. Two hundred years ago, people like me were tied up and set on fire; in some countries they still are. It's not a great confidence booster."

"But John," Fin said, sounding shocked, "surely you knew that none of us'd ever hurt you?"

"Not at first," Munch confessed. "You can't just walk up to someone and ask what their position on witchcraft is. It didn't take long, though, and then I knew, but I just got so used to hiding it ..." The room was silent for a moment, a dull, leaden silence heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Munch said, "It's done now, so - let's get on with this. I need some time to work out proper positioning in the circle - Who stands next to whom."

"Is that important?" Novak asked, glancing at the guys on either side of her; Carver and Dr. Huang.

"Only if we want Detective Goren to come out of this in one piece."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	24. Chapter 24

Author's Note - Thank you, everyone. I'm having such a good time on this fic. Thank you all for inspiring me to continue. I have such a terrible track record with stories - I finish about one in ten - but now, if I feel like I can't continue, I remind myself that I can't let justawriter, KendraC, TriStateCopFan, The X-Pig, ShadowSage, and all the others down. So thank you.

**Author's Note of Warning** - Just FYI, anything I say could be, and probably is, sarcastic (except the thanks, I mean every word). I have a very dark, snarky sense of humor, but it is not my intention to insult or hurt anyone's feelings. I wouldn't do that - I love you guys!

brynnamorgan - That's awesome. And you're right about Fin, I caught that and fixed it for my personal webpage, but I hadn't gotten around to updating it here. I have now, thanks.

TriStateCopFan - Those two are the most fun, and the most nerve-wracking characters to write. I was afraid I was going over the top, but it was just so much fun, I ran with it, and ... well, I guess it turned out okay. And about Elliot - LOL - when I read your other comment, I actually went into panic mode. I'd already written the first part of the next chapter, and I was totally freaking out, wondering if I was throwing him way OOC, if I was going to have to rewrite, and if so, could I still have the chapter done in time for a Monday update ... so I did some checking, drank some tea, hugged my cat and went ahead with what I had. I mean, no, Elliot is not gay, never could be, but I think he's comfortable with his, and others' sexuality. (Of course, what went on between him and Bobby is probably best left unwritten LOL)

The X-Pig - Don't be embarassed and thank you for that great compliment. It's nice to know the story makes sense (well, as much sense as this plot-line allows).

justawriter - Comedy is not easy. I've read that it's easier to make your readers cry than laugh. I do so love Munch and Fin - there's never enough of them on the show. Thanks.

ShadowSage2 - Eh, updating will probably continue as is, although I am working a couple of chapters ahead right now, and I've just had a diabolical idea for you guys to earn a faster update or two. Hmmm, I'll have to think about that. Oh, the plants! I LOVED doing that. It took me hours to find the right ones, but it turned out great, didn't it? As long as it's something I want to learn, I could research all day. Novak just gets on my nerves sometimes. Most of the time I like her, but those annoying things she does just have to made fun of. Now Bishop, she wasn't around long enough to really like or dislike her, but I did like seeing Goren without his Eames. Lost Bobby, missing his partner, _sigh_.

About Sledge: No, I'm not telling, LOL, and Sledge was actually just a filler until Bobby showed up. I didn't think Deakins would send Alex out alone, so I gave her a temp, and named him after my sometimes writing partner, Edward M. Sledge. My Edward writes original fantasy fiction, which we're trying to get up on our website, but he has been giving me pointers and encouragement on this one. Anyway, Detective Sledge _was_ just thrown in there for the hell of it, at first, but ... I have this terrible habit of making simple things complicated, things you wouldn't notice important, and things 'just thrown in there for the hell of it' look planned. Should you trust him? I really don't know.

08Starbaby08 - The wait is over, and, as usual, thank you very much.

lovvergurl - Thanks for reading, I appreciate the ... enthusiasm in your review(s).

Lina-Baggins - Thank you. I'm not sure if dark magick like that will have a form, though. And who said anything about Bobby surviving? I'm trying to find season one myself, so I know how you feel (probably why this fic is as crazy as it is).

qt-angel - Thanks for reading, I'm glad you like it.

Strawberry-ksc - Thank you so much. This was probably one of my favorite chapters to write so far.

SarahAnn91 - I'm on TWoP several times a day keeping up with the Hotness thread LOL, but thanks for leaving a review here, too. Fantasy is my genere of choice, so the crazy part comes pretty easily. Thank you and I'm glad you decided to take a risk on my fic - I'm pulling my hair out trying to keep everyone in character (not easy with a plot like this) and I just hope I can continue.

KendraC - Oh, come on, Fin is _totally_ a sweet pea guy! And I was kidding about condensing the story (my dark humor doesn't come across very well in my comments). The more chapters it takes, the more I get to hear from you wonderful people.

Rach - Spain! Oh, I'm so jealous. I would love to travel someday. I like replying, too. I'd have done it sooner, but I wasn't sure anybody wanted to hear from me. Anyway, thanks and I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

* * *

"Oh, please, let's," Alex said humorlessly, but inside her stomach gave a lurch. "How dangerous is this?" Munch walked around the desk to a clear glass drawing board and seized a pen. 

"Well," he said, drawing a large circle, "if I don't get Elliot and Logan to balance out, their combined anger issues could render Detective Goren into a pile of smoking ash. Worst case, of course."

"That's good to know," Alex replied, letting her biting tone mask the unease she felt. "I'd hate to think a pile of smoking ash was one of our better outcomes. Can you do it - keep these hot-heads from burning up my partner?" She ignored the dual scowls she was getting from either side of her.

"Oh, sure." He divided the circle into quadrants, labeling the upper-most point with a capital 'CN', the right side with an 'LB', the bottom with an 'AE' and the left with an 'OB'. "You ladies are easy; your implements carry their own directional association - the pentacle with the North, the athame with the East, the wand with the South and the chalice with the West. Now, we already know Olivia is quite capable of handling her partner, so we'll place him next to her." He wrote up an 'ES' just above the 'OB'. "Since Logan can't be next to Elliot, across from him, or in an adjoining quadrant, that leaves only ... here." He placed Logan's initials just to the right of 'AE'.

"You're putting him next to me?" Alex asked.

"And here I thought we were going to be friends," Logan said, leaning back against a desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He glanced over at Fin as the other detective opened his mouth to speak. "One more joke about your sweet pea and I'm going to shove it down your throat, got it?" Fin closed his mouth, his expression never changing, but Alex could sense the angry, animal side of him prowling restlessly behind those calm brown eyes.

"It's nothing personal," Alex said, stepping between the two men. "I'm just not sure I can handle _this_." She looked pointedly at Logan.

"Don't worry, the person across the circle from him will take the brunt of it. I just need someone calm. You look calm." He pointed at Carver. "What'd you say your first name was - Rob?"

"Ron," Carver corrected. Munch started to write it up, then glanced over at Alex.

"I can handle this, really. Maybe you should go ... prepare your partner. We don't have a lot of time." Alex nodded, her mouth suddenly dry - damn it. As she headed for the hallway back to lockup, Deakins caught her by the arm.

"Does he mean ... what I think he means?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, making him draw back as she met his eyes. She felt no qualms about unleashing her hard as nails, cold as ice, cuts like a razor, perp-rattling stare on him; it was her best defense, after all. He removed his hand from her arm and cleared his throat, probably trying to remind himself that _he_ was the one in charge.

"This isn't going to be a problem, is it? I'd hate to have to break up my best team of detectives."

"It's not a problem," she assured him, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded.

"Just a thought, but perhaps you should let me take care of Goren this time." Deakins and Alex turned to stare at Bishop, who was calmly watching the dagger spin on the top of the desk beside her. It slowed and came to a stop, pointing directly toward the hallway. "It would be a shame to risk such a partnership." Alex's first response was a little biased, running along the lines of '_Ewww, he'd never touch you, you little tramp._', but she quickly realized her own emotional investment in this case and was able to push it mostly to the side.

Bobby had no great affection for his temporary partner, nor an open dislike of her, but Alex was almost certain that he would have no part of the pale red-head. On the other hand, he had said, admittedly in a desperate attempt to drive her away, that he would have picked anyone over her. Maybe it was time to put his money where his mouth was.

But why would Bishop volunteer to sate the incubus's hunger? It made no sense, unless she'd been harboring a school-girl crush on Bobby all this time, her infatuation turning to obsession - Alex shook her head. Not everything was a crime waiting to happen. Maybe ... Maybe ... Aw, to hell with it.

"Why would you do this?" she asked. "Do you have any idea what you're volunteering for, the power involved?"

"I'm not a complete idiot, Detective Eames. The power is _why_ I would do this, the total, all-encompassing, overwhelming power - to surrender to _that_, to become part of _that_ ... why wouldn't I want to?"

"I don't remember telling you - Don't tell me you're a witch, too," Alex said with a groan.

"Not even close," Bishop replied with a smirk to put Munch to shame. "You see, I too know how to run a web search."

"But why - " Deakins asked, frowning at the young detective.

"I thought it would be obvious," she said, rolling her eyes. "When you're climbing a rather crowded political ladder, it helps to have good shoes, strong hands, and a big stick to knock the competition off with."

"Where the hell are you heading, the Commissioner's office?" Bishop didn't reply. "And by screwing my partner you hope to - what? Earn his favor on your campaign?"

"I'll admit, having the two of you behind me, after I save your partnership from this train wreck, wouldn't hurt, but I'm really more interested in this curse. Think about it - the realm of the supernatural exists, and I have first-hand experience with some of the most intense forces it possesses. It's research, nothing more." Alex was silent a moment, letting her senses pour over Bishop unfiltered.

She was telling the truth, mostly. Either a few details were fudged, or she was leaving something out, Alex couldn't tell which. In the end, she supposed it didn't matter. As if Bishop had a chance with Bobby.

"Okay then, research away," Alex said, catching Bishop by surprise. She blinked those sharp gray eyes a couple of times, but recovered quick enough. Taking off her gray suit jacket and draping it over the back of her chair, she tossed her hair back over her shoulders and marched down the hall. "I give her five minutes," Alex said with a bitter bark of laughter. "Five minutes and he'll have her running out here in tears."

"What makes you say that?" Deakins asked.

"It's what I almost did."

"Damn. I give her three, in that case."

"I'm bettin' on Bishop," Fin said. Alex glanced up. Apparently, their voices had carried.

"Come on," Olivia said, "Bobby would never touch that - " She seemed to think better of her choice of words. "- woman, not if he had any choice, and the curse wasn't that advanced when he left."

"Ten bucks says he does," Fin replied, slapping a wrinkled Hamilton down on the desk. "And she's gone for half an hour."

"You're on." She dropped a couple of fives on there. "She's back in ten; Bobby's too nice to scare her off faster than that."

"I got twenty minutes, and the chick does him," Logan said, reaching for his wallet.

"Hang on, hang on, let me write this down," Munch said, moving to a clear space on the glass. Alex buried her head in her hands and groaned.

* * *

When Bishop reappeared at the end of the corridor seventeen minutes later, a communal groan went up from everyone except Novak, who began to gather up the pile of cash.

"Wait a minute," Logan said, grabbing her by the arm. "It's not like he had to wine and dine her - they could have -"

"No," Alex and Olivia said at the same time. They exchanged bemused glances and Olivia finished the thought. "She's walking too smoothly; no woman glides like that after sex."

"So, how did the research go?" Alex asked as Bishop drew within hearing distance. The skinny red-head took in the scene with cold gray eyes and raised her chin defiantly at the sight of Novak counting her hard won spoils.

"He told me to come back later," she said. "The curse wasn't advanced enough; he's still in control. And somebody forgot to mention that he locked himself in a cell."

"I guess a key would have useful," Alex said blandly. "You sure were gone a long time. Seventeen minutes."

"Bobby and I had a lot of catching up to do." Alex didn't know who she thought she was fooling. She and Bobby had nothing in common. Bishop walked over to the glass board before Munch could wipe off the bets. "Four to one against me; thanks for the vote of confidence." She glanced over at Novak. "How much did you win?"

"Ninety bucks and lunch at Cardinelli's." Bishop nodded.

"Whatever you do, don't order the seafood. And double or nothing says next time, I get him."

"You're on," Logan said.

"No, you're not." Alex had finally had enough. "This isn't fight night at the Coliseum. And you -" She pointed at Bishop. " - you had your chance. He's mine - my partner, my responsibility." For some reason, the thought of sending Bishop back to Bobby after the incubus had taken control, when he was helpless and vulnerable, made her sick to her stomach. She stalked across the room, grabbed her coat, and headed down the hallway. After a few steps she stopped and turned. "If I even suspect that you've been placing bets on me, I'm going to hurt every last one of you."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	25. Chapter 25

It's about time! What the hell happened! I've been trying to get this chapter up since 2 am Monday morning. Sheesh, if this ever happens again, the homepage link on my bio is to my website, which I will keep updated even if this site goes to crap. Anyway...

Author's Note - Wow, lots of reviews! Thanks! Okay, I've got a question for you. Because I've had to do some serious thinking on what's best for the story, I'm wondering how much angst/shippyness I can get away with before this becomes some sappy soap opera, which I am desperately trying to avoid. Don't get me wrong, I love fluffy fics that make you go 'Awww!' at the end, but this isn't one of those. It's too dark to be fluffy, IMO. Any thoughts would be appreciated.

The X-Pig - I'd put my money on aliens, LOL. I have the feeling that what happened will eventually come to light, to the surprise of many a character. We'll just have to wait and see.

TriStateCopFan - I had a lot of fun with this one. And with Bishop. I'm trying to not take too many liberties with the main characters, but since Bishop _was_ kinda flat in the show, I've decided to improve her a bit. I've got big plans for her, _Mwa ha ha ha_.

justawriter - Thank you, I'm trying :)

TrinityWildcat - Logan could be an asset, especially if he allows VDO to bring back the Goren we remember from season 1 (miss him). Of course, that could be the writers, too. A Bobby & Alex angsty/shippy scene? Well, I suppose if you want ... :)

08Starbaby08 - No, Bishop on the show didn't impress me, but _this_ girl has potential.

brynnamorgan - I've read so many opinions elsewhere that Eames is just window-dressing on the show, but I've always seen her more like this: quiet, capable, strong, smart, reliable - she's Goren's back-up because she chooses to be, because he needs her to be, and if something works as well as their partnership, you don't go messing with it.

Strawberry-ksc - It's the little bits of 'normal' that keep people sane in an insane world. Plus, I just though the whole idea was a riot. And yes, I think Alex may be feeling a litle possessive.

Shell - Glad I could make you laugh. It might be the last time for a while - _glances at next chapter_ - Nope, nothing funny there. And yes, I am dark. It's usually a character flaw, but here I think it's working to my advantage.

Susan G. - Wow, I'm glad you decided to tune in, though I do feel sorry for the cat, LOL. Munch is the main reason I watch SVU, although Elliot is usually worth a look or two :). And you know, that was exactly what I was aiming for, easing into the wierd stuff slowly so it would be too much of a jolt. I guess I did my job okay, eh? And don't worry, I'll finish this if it kills me.

Lina-Baggins - Ten bucks says ... Oh, wait, I _know_ what's going to happen, LOL! And no, I'm not trying to kill you, I'm trying to kill him. (I may be kidding, by the way, how could I have a sequel without Bobby?)

netherfield - Eames may not have stopped them, but she didn't join in. Personally, I think Goren would have gotten a kick out of it. Well, you're going to have to wait a little longer - this level of detail requires a little slower pacing - plus, I've still got quite a bit of story to tell. They still have to do something about the bad guy, after all. It's a less professional kind of story, and thanks for allowing me to lead you.

ShadowSage2 - Hey, Sage! Yes, I am taking some liberties with Bishop, but I figured that since she wasn't around long enough to get to know her (and the writers didn't even bother to try) I could give her a bit of depth, make her into _my_ puppet, LOL. Oh, yes, a storm _is_ brewing, be sure of that. **Question**: What do you think about Logan taking over for half the episodes of CI next year? I'm hopeful that it can be done well. It could be the best thing to happen to CI, or the worst. I will miss Goren, but if the rest allows him to go back to the erratic, off-beat wonderful wierdo he was (he's been kinda toned down lately) then it's okay with me. I never knew Logan on the Mothership (I think I was ten when it started), but I do like Chris Noth and I think he could do a great job, writers permitting.

Rach - Yes, Bishop does seem to have some strange motivation, doesn't she? Thanks - where I really want to go is England or Australia. LOL, I forget the sun cream when mowing the lawn, so I'd probably be in trouble.

thousand-miles - I didn't want her with him either, hee hee, but I figured she could at least try. Of course Alex can't admit she's jealous, because then she'd have to face _why_ she was jealous, and she's just not ready to do that - yet. Ruin their partnership? I'd kill him first. LOL

Carissa - Welcome to the insanity! I'm glad you like it, thanks for reading.

Lord of Chaos - Thanks for reviewing and pointing that out. I could have sworn I checked before writing that, but I must have been looking at a twenty. I appreciate little nit-picky things like that - I hate making mistakes - so thanks again. And yeah, I'll try not to ... but I probably will.

KendraC - Luckily, I do know how this will end. I wrote up a brief outline a few weeks ago so I wouldn't get lost. Looking at it, I only have seven or eight major plot points left to cover, however most are sure to take multiple chapters to cover. Angry conflict ... You could say that. Thanks to this down time, I'm well past _those_ chapters, so I'll probably update again soon. And you need to stop guessing, LOL, you make me feel predictable. Just kidding, guess away.

* * *

Bobby lay on his back on the narrow cot, one arm resting on his chest, the other draped over his face, his knees bent so that his feet wouldn't hang off the end. He didn't move as Alex stopped before the door to his cell, didn't give any sign that he knew that she was there, but he knew. She didn't say anything, just reached into the pockets of her coat, first one and then the other, searching for the key.

"Looking for this?" The arm on his chest flexed at the wrist, raising his huge hand to reveal the dull metal key. Pressing her lips into a thin line, Alex threw her coat over the back of one of the chairs they'd used to hang the curtain.

"So, you're a pick-pocket now," she said, leaning against the cold metal bars.

"Well, I ... knew you would be back."

"There's more than one key to this door. Don't make me go out there and get another one."

"You won't go out there because then you'd have to admit you couldn't handle me -"

"Don't you dare psychoanalyze me. I am not some perp for you to toy with -" She stopped herself, very aware that an emotional outburst was just what he wanted. "Let me in, Bobby. I need to talk to you."

"I can hear you just fine from there, Eames."

"Damnit, I am not talking to you through these bars, now open this door!" He sat up suddenly, swinging his legs off the cot and sitting with his knees practically up around his ears. If the cot had been any lower, it would have been on the floor. Like some gangly giant, he slowly unfolded himself, rising to his feet and gliding over to the cell door with long, dragging strides. She stepped back as he gripped the bars, pressing his face between them as he stared down at her.

"You're not up to ... this, not - not with that broken rib."

"Munch fixed me."

"Why do you want in here ... with me? You know what ... will happen, eventually." Flashes of pain danced across his weary features and her heart ached for him, for all he had suffered, and all he was willing to endure. "After a while, you get used to the pain," he said, reading her eyes. "Mostly."

"And apparently you get used to the incubus, too," she said. "This close and I can hardly feel it." She stepped closer, reaching out as if to touch him through the bars, but he moved away.

"It has a ways to go yet. Like I told Bishop, if you must, come back in an hour."

"We don't have an hour, in case you've forgotten. Captain Cragen wants this wrapped up ASAP, and I don't know about you, but I'd like to get home, take a shower, eat something and get to bed while it's still dark outside."

"You say that like I've been staying at the Ritz." He cocked his head to one side. "You think I slept last night? Do you think I'll ever sleep again?" He slid back up against the bars, his voice a rough whisper when he spoke. "I can't close my eyes without seeing their faces, those women that I hurt, and now I see yours, too, lined with pain and fear ... except for when your eyes were closed, when you went away to - to your island paradise and your fantasy man." His voice had dropped as the emotion welled up, breaking through the carefully guarded walls he'd placed around it. He was barely whispering now. "Who was he, Eames? Captain of the football team? Tom Cruise? Your dead husband?"

Whatever he was trying to do, it wasn't working. The remark about her husband stung, but it would have cut like a freaking chainsaw if she hadn't seen the desperate, raw and bleeding need for reassurance in his eyes. He was trying to push her away again, because that was what he was expecting, preparing himself for, even if it was the very thing he was hoping against all hope against. Sometimes, it's easier to be disappointed.

"Bobby," she said, very calmly, "the captain of our football team was an asshole, I can't stand Tom Cruise; he's too short, and I buried my husband a long time ago. I will always love him, but not like that, not anymore. And the man in my fantasy, the one who made love to me under that waterfall - " She reached out and grabbed him by the front of the shirt, giving the denim a sharp tug to make sure she had his full attention. " - it was you." He made a skeptical noise in the back of his throat and started to turn away, but she jerked on his shirt again, more vehemently this time, and waited for him to raise his eyes to hers. Looking out at her was a wounded little boy, told so many lies, had so many promises broken, that he was afraid to believe, yet couldn't help it.

It wasn't pity that stirred her heart - sadness, yes, that part of him still lived in that dark and lonely place, but also a sense of awe, of wonder, and a great swelling of admiration for what he had become. She knew damn well what it felt like to scrape and claw and fight for every inch, the little woman in a big man's world; she hadn't realized that his fight had been no easier, the damaged man in a world of shiny, flawless exteriors. She waited for his full attention, and then said it again, so that he could read it in her eyes, too.

"It was you. Being with you was never the problem; being at the mercy of the incubus was. That's why I want in, because I would rather have sex with you now than be raped by that _thing_ later."

"I can't. Don't you understand, I can't." Alex let go of his shirt and turned away.

"Quit being so selfish, Bobby," she said sharply, feeling like a total heel for such an underhanded attack. "This isn't about you anymore - It's about us. Deakins has all but said that he'll split us up at the first sign of trouble, and you moping around all hang-dog and guilty more than qualifies. Or do you want a new partner, and you just couldn't figure out how to tell me?" She stood with her back to him, waiting. After a long, heavy silence, she heard the key slide into the lock and the door swing open with a piercing squeal. "Thank y - Hey!" A strong arm wrapped around her waist and swept her up off the floor, right out of her shoes. "Robert Goren, put me down this instant!" she demanded, her bare feet kicking vainly against his muscular leg. Carrying her on his hip like a sack of potatoes, Bobby walked across the cell and dropped her on the cot. He crossed the room in two strides and slammed the door shut, then came back, looming over her as she sat up and brushed the hair out of her face.

"Why should I make this easy on you?" he asked, his voice a rolling growl. "So that you can clear your conscience - tell yourself you did what you had to ... to be able to sleep at night? So that you can close your eyes ... escape, and leave me here ... alone ... again ..."

"That's what's wrong," Alex said quietly, realization finally dawning on her. "It felt like I abandoned you." She stared up at him, a dull, hollow ache in her chest. "I'm sorry, Bobby, I didn't mean to." That was all he needed apparently, all it took. He lowered his eyes, drawing back, drawing into himself, speaking in that shy murmur that made you feel like he was talking to himself and you were just eavesdropping.

"It's okay, Eames, you were protecting yourself; you didn't know. I just ... felt so alone." He shuffled forward and sank down onto the floor, sitting with his back against the cot, his left shoulder almost touching her right knee. Knees drawn up to his chest, he cocked his head to one side and stared emptily across the room. "It was like I'd reached for you and you weren't there, like you were a thousand miles away and I might never find you again. I thought I had been alone before, but that ... that was the definition of loneliness. I don't want to be lonely any more." With that declaration he fell silent.

The faucet dripped into the sink - _tap ... tap ... tap ..._ She could hear his voice, repeating, _I don't want to be lonely any more_. It was just a confession, just a statement - he didn't realize the door he had opened, and she couldn't, in good conscience, step through it, no matter how much she might want to. It would be so easy for her to lean down, her lips beside his ear, and whisper, '_I don't want to be lonely any more, either_', but that wouldn't be fair - to either of them.

"I won't leave you again," she said suddenly. "If I had known, I never would have." He didn't answer for a moment, just reached out to absently run his fingers down the crease in the leg of her slacks.

"You can't stay with me forever, you - you won't. If we do this - choose to do this, what will it do to _us_?"

"Us?" she repeated, not sure exactly what kind of an _us_ he thought they were.

"Our ... partnership." She found herself disappointed. Was that all he cared about - their work? "Those months that you were gone were the longest of - of my life. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you for good," he said, still fiddling with her pant leg. She leaned forward to see what was so fascinating. "Loose thread, here ... on the cuff." Alex shook her head as he leaned over and clipped the offending thread with his teeth, his breath warm against her ankle. As he raised his head she reached out and placed her palm against his unshaven cheek.

"I don't understand why I'm so important to you, if you think I'll up and leave at the first sign of trouble." His eyebrows shot up and he opened his mouth to speak, but she brought her thumb up across his lips. "I know that's not what you meant, Bobby. I was terrified of the very same thing, but we survived the first ordeal - and we're stronger for it. This is nothing. In half an hour we'll be up on the roof, we'll do the spell, we'll hunt down that son of a bitch that did this, and then we'll put it behind us, just like every case." He was silent for a moment, then frowned.

"Half an hour?" he asked skeptically.

"Sure, five minutes to get this taken care of, and twenty-five to grab a bite to eat. I'm starving." He smiled faintly. Taking that as a good sign, she leaned closer to kiss him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her back.

"Not yet, not ... now." Frustrated, she pushed his hands away and stood, pacing across the cell.

"Why not?" she demanded. "Why not now? It's no different than waiting - the reason is the same, the process is the same, the result is the same, except that I don't have to give up control." She paused, her head tilted back as she stared up at the ceiling. Ugly ceiling. "I don't understand why you would want to feel that helpless again. Explain it to me, make me understand, Bobby."

"I don't want to be in control," he said, standing up. "I don't want it to be _me_ doing that to you. Bad enough that the incubus has to do it _through_ me, but it can't be _me_."

"That's why you stop." Alex ran a hand over her face. God, her skin felt so rough and dry, so old. She must look like crap. "You know, you keep doing that and you're going to give yourself an aneurysm."

"What else am I supposed to do?" She gave him her best 'Do I have to spell it out?' look. "I can't do that to you, I can't ... _use_ you like that. You said it yourself - this isn't about - about me, it's about the incubus, and once it's satisfied, that's it, it's finished." Walking across the cell, she shed her wrinkled suit jacket, leaving her barefoot in black slacks and a sleeveless burgundy top. She threaded her jacket through the bars, then made her way back to the cot, stopping right in front of him, her hands on her hips.

"Yes, it is almost finished, or it would be, if you'd get over this need to feel guilty about everything. So this is our choice, so what? We've been making choices since we were born. I choose to have sex, enjoy it, and not feel guilty. How about you?" He stared at her a moment, then sighed and hung his head.

"Whatever you want, Eames." Wow. Wasn't this going to be fun?

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	26. Chapter 26

Author's Note - Thank you all very much for the reviews. You're the reason I've been working so hard on this thing, hard enough to get a few chapters ahead, so, anybody who wants an unscheduled release of the next chapter, just tell me one thing - There is a line in **this** chapter that was inspired directly by a line in one of my favorite songs. (Yes, I was feeling self-indulgent, but I don't think it hurt anything.) What is the line and the title of the song? As soon as I get the correct answer in a review, I'll post the next chapter, otherwise you'll have to wait until Monday.

**Content Warning - **nothing serious, just a little steamy, more than T but less than M, IMO. Just thought I should say something, so you can't blame me for any naughty images you might conjure as a result. I warned ya!

TriStateCopFan - Thank you! I couldn't wait to post what happens next ;-) LOL, I was checking the site every couple of hours. It is addicting! It's these reviews that's done it to me - I'm hooked on the love, LOL!

ShadowSage2 - I got mothership off the Television Without Pity: Law & Order messageboards - I actually owe them for quite a few phrases and descriptions. Tell me about it (the writers)! I liked TBJ, but I couldn't really get 'into' it, and it didn't help that it was opposite Numb3rs. Oh well. I didn't see Bobby as having major control issues - he usually lets Alex drive, after all. Now my mother, she's a control freak, and she can't stand to have anyone else drive but her (so that's where I got my opinion from). I think his feelings will become more clear in the next couple of chapters.

Susan G. - :-) I try to respond to everyone, when I have the time (and with the site down, I had nothing but time). And yes, I did get a bunch written, but I try to keep a few chapters as padding, in case my muse gets hit by a bus or something, LOL. Thank you for that wonderful compliment (although, if you're hearing voices ..._ calls security_ ... just kidding). Bobby, Bobby, Bobby ... _sighs_ ... what am I going to do with you? I'm afraid he's going to have to keep 'not getting it' for a couple more chapters, at least.

netherfield - I love writing Bobby and Alex. And thanks for the advice - they _are_ mature adults (I, however, am a twenty-something romantic - _eep_) so I'll try to keep the fluff to a minimum. Thanks for the vote of confidence; I'll try not to let you down.

SarahAnn91 - Wounded, noble, vulnerable and strong - just the adjectives I was going for (although I have the tendency to throw sexy in there too, on occasion, LOL).

brynnamorgan - Here is comes is right! Of course, you can't expect Alex to hold it together forever ...

Strawberry-ksc - Thank you. As they say, God is in the details (or something like that). My family actually teases me about writing too much detail - 'It takes you five pages to describe a doorknob.' is their favorite one. Bah, I say! I _like_ detail.

08Starbaby08 - Thanks, the line, 'I don't want to be lonely anymore' was inspired by a song by Rob Thomas, ironically called _Lonely No More_. His music is the greatest, and helped capture the emotions for a lot of scenes in this fic. Loneliness is perhaps the harshest of all conditions, wearing away at the foundation of a man until they crumble (Wow, I just made that up, not bad, LOL). I saw the episode, and all I can say is; '_sigh_'. I saw TBJ a few times, but it was on opposite Numb3rs, and my 6'3", math-genius brother won the fight for the remote most of the time (I'm 5'1" in sneakers). CI might not get the greatest ratings, but it's better than a lot of the crap on TV these days, and if they can work Logan in properly, it might bring people in who liked him on the original series.

justawriter - Thanks for sharing your opinion, I need all the help I can get! I'm trying to keep it angsty/shippy, without the fluffiness creeping in. LOL, I had to go back through a few chapters (ones not posted yet) and shear the fluff off. It was a freaking angora rabbit for a few minutes, then I came to my senses and now it's some kind of gerbil or hamster, maybe a pika or lemming - anyway, it's shippy, but without too much fluff, I hope.

Carissa - I can sleep again, too! Glad you liked it, thanks for reviewing.

The X-Pig - Well, thank you, I try. I'd like to say that the metaphor of the cell and their feelings was a rather ingenious insight on my part, but ... I totally missed it until you just pointed it out, LOL. A wonderful example of why I would rather be lucky than good. Yes, Bobby does quite a bit of giving in (and not giving in) in the next couple of chapters. 'That bastard' is right. P

Lina-Baggins - Thank you! It's one of the great parts of writing when you know that your readers understand the point you were trying to make. You summed up everything I was trying to say in that chapter so perfectly. It makes me feel like I've done my job right. August! Now I'll spend the whole summer vacation wishing it was fall, LOL.

KendraC - Bobby has his reasons (which shall become a little clearer - to us and Alex - in this and the next chapter). Thanks and enjoy!

Wearing the mask of perfect indifference, Alex stripped off her top and stuffed it through the bars next to her jacket. Her hands were shaking as she undid her slacks and let them slide to the floor, but it was from anger as much as nerves. Why did Bobby have to be so ... Bobby? Why couldn't he be like any other man and just enjoy it? Okay, maybe she wasn't being fair to the greater male population, but she couldn't imagine many putting up such a fuss about it. Why was he making such a big deal out of such a little thing. It was sex, not marriage, she wasn't asking for a commitment, or even an 'I'll call you later'. This didn't mean anything.

God, did she wish she felt that way. Maybe this wouldn't hurt so much. She glanced up to find him staring into the distance, lost in thought. There was something ... something _aching_ about him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping out of her pants and towards him. What she thought she was going to do, how she was going to comfort him, she didn't have a clue. How do you comfort someone if you don't know why they are hurting?

"I was seven when I realized there was no Santa Claus, no Tooth Fairy, no Easter Bunny," he said quietly. "I don't make wishes on falling stars. There's no ... point. So why did I allow myself to believe, to wonder, to - to hope ... ?" He fell silent, lost in his thoughts.

She was used to his tangents, used to being left behind by his brilliant, if somewhat random reasoning, and she waited, hoping, like she always did, that this wouldn't be the one time where she couldn't catch up. He glanced at her and she was stunned by the depth of the emotion in his eyes: the pain, the sorrow, the desire, the anger.

"Bobby," she whispered, "what - ?" He blinked and tilted his head to one side, bird-like, his eyes downcast, unreadable.

"When we kissed, in the break room - it was because of the lust spell, right? It wasn't your ... choice. It was magick." It was magic, all right, the way his hands moved to her face, taking control of her, so strong, yet gentle. It had felt nothing like the lust that the incubus brought on, it had felt so ... real. "It had to be," Bobby said suddenly, "you'd never kiss me otherwise. I - I - I would never kiss you, for that matter, it's un ... professional." Alex just stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out just which planet he was from.

"Of course it was the spell," she said after a moment, taking her time and making sure she didn't sound as vengeful and petty as she was feeling. It was hard, what with him sending these mixed signals at her. She was having enough trouble sorting out her own feelings on this whole disaster, and here he was, throwing curve balls at her. One minute, it felt like she was the only person in the world that mattered, and the next, it was like he could hardly stand to be near her. And they said women were unpredictable.

She took a deep breath. "So, how do you want to do this?" she asked, standing there in her underwear. "Against the wall again? On the floor? The bed? I'm sure you've got some creative ideas. Just one thing - I want your clothes off too this time. Your zipper left this raw spot on my thigh." She rotated her leg outward to show him the red mark. Okay, so she was being vicious and snarky. He deserved it.

He didn't speak, his eyes taking in her leg, then slowly moving up her body, that look of total concentration on his face, as if she were the only thing in the entire world. If he'd had his leather binder, she was sure he'd be taking notes. He reached her face, and then turned away.

"The bed is fine," he said, starting to unbutton his shirt, "but I have to be on top."

"You do realize that you're bigger than me, right?" He looked at her over his shoulder, eyes hooded, gaze neutral. "Just checking. I thought you didn't want to be in control."

"I don't."

"Then why - ?"

"I have my reasons. Or we could just forget this." Alex cocked her head to the side and stared at his broad back in bemused irritation. Yes, that's what it was, because she absolutely would not admit that he was driving her freaking nuts!

"Whatever you want is just fine," she told him sweetly. "Just try not to squash me." He didn't reply, just shrugged out of his shirt and dropped it on the floor. The bandage on his back had bled through a little, but not enough to worry about. She could change the dressing later ... after. She'd brought extra gauze, just in case. She started to look away as his jeans came down, but her attention was grabbed by the sudden appearance of his boxers. On a dappled blue background, from midnight to sky, his under-shorts were positively _swimming_ with sharks - hammerheads, threshers, tigers and great whites were schooled on Robert Goren's boxers. Yellow smiley faces or those ridiculous red chili peppers wouldn't have been as surprising.

"You don't like sharks?" he asked, catching her staring. She shrugged.

"Not particularly - not many people do."

"I do," he said in that quick, almost apologetic manner he had. "They're simple, straightforward, no hidden agendas, no ... subversive motives. They do what they do and that's it."

"What they do, is kill," she said, not quite believing they were having this discussion. First John Tagman, now Jaws? Couldn't he choose to champion someone who deserved it?

"They kill to survive, Eames - not for greed, or jealousy, or anger, but to - to live."

"So it's okay to do otherwise reprehensible things as long as it's a matter of survival. Does that include having sex?" He laughed, turning to her with that sleepy smile that never made it to his eyes. When his eyes smiled, you knew you did something right. When they didn't, you knew you were in trouble.

"You're more dangerous than most people think, you know that? You let me do my little song and dance, but you're quite capable on your own." Alex shook her head.

"No, Bobby, I can't do what you do; I can't get into their heads, I can't see what you see ..."

"You'd find another way; you're smart, hardworking, dedicated ... Why - why do you put up with me?"

"That's a damn good question," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now, who do I have to interrogate around here to get you to screw me?" He winced, ever so slightly, at her vulgarity and the truth hit her like a tweaker with a crowbar. He didn't want to 'screw' her, he _wanted_ it to mean more. Or did she just _want_ him to want it to be more? She cast her eyes down and rubbed at her temple. Another of those freaking curve balls. Why couldn't anything be easy, just once?

"Finish getting undressed," he said quietly, turning his back like a gentleman while she slipped out of her underwear. Feeling very exposed and vulnerable, she made her way over to the cot and lay down, the coarse gray blanket scratching her sensitive bare skin. She kept her eyes on the ceiling, that horrible pock-mark tiled ceiling, while he removed his boxers and positioned himself over her, his hands planted on either side of her shoulders, supporting his weight. Parting her legs, she allowed him to kneel between them and then held her breath, waiting for him to touch her, to stir up the incubus just enough to facilitate their joining. He was still a big guy, after all, and she was nowhere near ready for him.

"Hey - ow, hold on!" She jumped and pushed him off, drawing up her knees and curling her legs to the side. "Whatever happened to foreplay? I didn't even get a 'Ready or not, here I come'. No pun intended."

"I - You _want_ me to ..." Of course she did. She slowly shook her head.

"At this point, it's about comfort, not want. You're a big guy, Bobby, in case you hadn't noticed, and it's a - a tight fit, even when I'm ready." He lowered his eyes.

"I didn't - I just thought you'd want to get this over with."

"That was cold," she said quietly. "You_ know_ I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Now, could you just ... pretend like you want to do this, just once, just this last time."

"You want me to _pretend_ to love you?" He stared at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "I - I don't think I can ... do that." She was silent for a moment.

"Okay then. Never mind. Wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable." She lay back on the bunk. "Go ahead then, plow away."

"Oh, come on, Eames, don't - "

"Eames. You won't even call me Alex. Because it's not professional. I hate to break it to you, but we lost _professional_ a long time ago." She jumped as he suddenly planted his hands on either side of her again, his face just inches from hers. The look in his eyes made the breath catch in her throat. It was raw, predatory, scared.

"You don't understand," he said, his voice raspy with emotion.

"Make me understand - talk to me."

"I can't - I can't _pretend_ to love you ... I ..." He hung his head and started to leave, but Alex'd had enough - it was time to take matters into her own hands. She placed her palms flat against his chest, completing the circuit, and arched her back as the power coursed through her, a sudden jolt that left her weakened, but in control. He was frozen, on his hands and knees above her, his eyes fixed on her face the way a starving man stares at the leftovers on someone else's plate; wanting so bad it hurts, but not yet willing to step over that line, that last boundary that will leave them changed forever. She ran her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, gently kneading the tight muscles.

He just looked at her for a second, no change in that slight frown, then, slowly, his eyes closed and his frown relaxed into a sad, almost peaceful expression. He gave in.

His lips found her jaw line, tracing the curve of her face, tasting the soft skin beneath her ear, making their way down to her collarbone. He changed position, laying beside her on his hip, braced on one elbow as his free hand explored her body, drawing a line of fire on her skin from her knee, up the back of her thigh and over her ribs, hesitating just below her breast. Taking his hand in hers, she guided him upward, her nipple hardening against the warmth of his palm. With his lips still wreaking sensuous havoc on her throat, he began to caress her soft skin, his huge hand almost covering her completely.

Oh, God, he was good. She felt her eyes start to drift closed as he began to kiss his way back up her neck, and she forced them open. She would not desert him, not this time. This was their moment - as close to the real thing as they would ever get - and she would not cloud a second of it with useless fantasies. His lips caressed the base of her jaw and she turned her head, trying to capture his mouth with her own, but he pulled back. Their eyes met.

"You don't have to stay," he said, his voice rumbling through her where their bodies touched. "You can close your eyes. I understand. I just wish ... I could go - go with you." She stared up at him for a moment, the seed of an idea beginning to sprout in her brain. She took his stubbly face in both hands and kissed him, swiftly and soundly on the lips, then extricated herself from his surprised arms.

The air was cool on her naked skin as she walked over to the cell bars, reached through and grabbed her coat, fishing the large gauze pads out of her pocket. Bobby watched her with one eyebrow raised as she made her way over to the sink.

"The air is heavy, humid, making us sticky with sweat," she said. "We've been walking for hours through the heat and insects, and now, in the distance, we can hear water running." She turned on the cold water faucet, the old pipes knocking and squealing, completely ruining the mood. She glanced over at Bobby. A small smile played across his face.

"It's just a whisper at first," he said, sitting up on the edge of the bed, "but it grows louder, into a soft rumble, then the jungle parts ..."

"The falls cascade down the cliff face, a white, frothy curtain. We shed our clothes and slip into the water." She held the gauze under the faucet until it was soaking wet. Bracing herself, she raised the gauze above her head and let the water drip onto her face, her throat, her breasts. Goosebumps rose all along her body, but it was an exhilarating feeling. As she dipped the gauze back under the water, she chanced a look at her partner. His shoulders rose and fell with each ragged breath and he'd moved forward on the cot, perching himself on the very edge. She had his undivided attention.

Walking toward him, she held the wet gauze to her chest, feeling the drips of water slip through her fingers and roll between her breasts, down her stomach. She stopped beside him, her empty hand reaching out to play with the tiny curls at the base of his neck. He looked up at her, his eyes dark, hungry, and licked dry lips. She found herself mesmerized by that tongue again.

"What happens next?" he asked hoarsely. She started to say, 'Use your imagination', but he wasn't being coy, he was asking permission, asking what he was allowed to do.

"Next," she answered softly, "you lick the drops of water from my skin." She allowed a trickle to escape her cupped hand, leaving a beaded trail down the center of her body. Holding her breath, she watched him lean toward her, her knees threatening to go weak even before his tongue darted out to capture the first glistening droplet clinging to the edge of her belly button. His massive hands gripped her waist as he kissed and licked his way up her stomach, catching the drops of water as they rolled between her breasts. Smiling to herself, Alex slid the gauze pads to one side, letting the water slide down her breast. A single sparkling drop clung to her nipple. Her breath caught in her throat as Bobby licked it away.

Taking the gauze away from her chest, she held it above his head as he turned his face upward, eyes closed as the cool water splashed across his forehead and cheek. Moving her hand over his shoulder, she gave a little squeeze. He gasped as the water rolled down his back and chest. She repeated the action on the other side, then drew the wet gauze up the side of his neck, under his chin, and down the center of his throat. They were both breathing hard.

"Well," she said, tossing the gauze over into the sink, "I think we're wet enough now." Gently, she took his face in her hands, just as he had in the break room, and teased his lips with feather-light tastes of her own. In the back of her mind, an annoying little voice was reminding her that this was _Robert Goren_, her _partner_, and that she should definitely _not_ be kissing him, but she just told that voice to shut the hell up. It might be weak, but God help them, they needed this.

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.


	27. Chapter 27

Author's Note - In case you were wondering, the line was the last one of the chapter: 'It might be weak, but God help them, they needed this.' It was inspired by the song _Bed of Lies_ by Matchbox Twenty. Great song, just the kind of emotional mood-setter I needed to write this, all angsty and aching. In case anyone cares, there's another song inspired line in this chapter, one of Rob Thomas' new songs, if anyone wants to look.

**Question**: Should this fic have an 'M' rating, or is rating the racy chapters separately enough?

**Content Warning**: This chapter contains scenes not suitable for younger readers. If you find sexually oriented material offensive, do not read.

Rach - Yeah, it's not exactly an ideal situation, is it? Oh well, it can't always be wine and roses. Thanks for the review.

TriStateCopFan - Glad you enjoyed. I had a good time writing this one. It may be obvious to us, but Alex has a had a really long, really strange day, so you can't blame her for being a little obtuse. She is smart, though, so I'm sure she'll catch on before too long (_wink, wink_). Fine then, don't guess, LOL, just thought somebody might enjoy a little musical treasure hunt, but if not, oh well, Monday isn't too far away. And I would _love_ to satisfy Bobby ... but I think I'll leave it up to Alex this time. ;-)

The X-Pig - LOL! Well, if you're reading _this_ at work, I'd suggest stopping right now. Bobby and Alex are blinded by their own issues, or at least their vision is clouded by their own feelings, perceptions, and assumptions. I'm sure they'll work it out eventually. And thank you very much.

ShadowSage2 - Tell Courtney "Hi" from me, LOL. This may be another chapter you _don't_ want to read during class (It makes _me_ blush, giggle, groan and sigh).

brynnamorgan - Yes, very warm indeed. Chapters 26, 27 and 28 took a very long time to write 'cause I had to get them _perfect_ (or as close as I could manage). I keep catching myself re-reading this story. I go back to check a fact from a previous chapter (What color was Alex's shirt?) and end up reading thirty pages before I realize what I'm doing! It's a wonder I've gotten as far as I have. Thanks for reviewing.

Carissa - That's okay, I was just bored and itching for a reason to post the next chapter early. No reason no chapter. ( Thanks for the review.

Strawberry-ksc - I know, the shark boxers are another of my little self-indulgences (I love sharks), but he seems like a guy who could admire the perfection, the simplicity, the grace, and the honesty of a shark. (_shrugs_) Will the next chapter have a content warning? Do sharks swim in the sea? ;-)

justawriter - You and me both.

Shell - Thanks for the reviews, and the confidence. My darkness does have a fluffy side, though (I think I've edited it all out now, LOL). You're right, cute can be good, but not here. I'm actually musing over a short piece of fluff that has nothing to do with this story, so maybe I can bleed some of the cutesy stuff into it. Glad you liked both chapters, and the boxers :-)

netherfield - Glad you liked it.

SarahAnn91 - I sure do love me my Bobby. Mean? Me? Never. I'm dark, twisted and sadistic, but never mean, LOL. The anticipation just makes the final reward that much sweeter, I hope.

KendraC - I've been debating changing the rating - this chapter is pretty close to an M (R) rating, and the next one is definately a good, solid M, but the rest of the story, aside from chapter 13, is T (PG-13), IMO. M rated stories don't show up unless you look for them, but I guess most of you loyal readers have a story alert on this, so it's not like you wouldn't be able to find it ... I might just stick with special content warnings for the chapters that need them, unless quite a few people agree that it should be changed. I'll leave it up to you guys, I guess. I don't know about going back to her place - I was looking forward to a few tense, emotional encounters between Bobby and Katrina. Glad you enjoyed, thanks for reviewing.

Daiquiri - Thank you so much, glad you like it.

Lina-Baggins - Well, no, I can't say I would, LOL. Why do you think I write this stuff? He is damn hot. Thank you very much for your review.

thousand-miles - Many excellent points. Just hang in there, and look for some revelations in the next couple of chapters.

Rach - (Wow, first and last, LOL) Thanks for guessing, I should have given some clearer hints. Glad you liked the chapter and could handle the ... um, unusualy imagery. Hope you can handle this next chapter! )

* * *

Bobby strained against her hands, seeking to close the distance between them, but she held him down, her tongue flicking out to taste his lips. From the look in his eyes, she could almost believe that really wanted her - her, Alex, not just a warm body to fill. Lips parted, she leaned down and granted him his kiss, her tongue exploring the mysteries of his mouth, while his went on a similar journey. Throwing one leg over his, she straddled him, feeling the velvet hardness of him press against the inside of her thigh.

The ache started low in her belly, but quickly spread outward, until the touch of his flesh was all she could think about. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, ignoring the pressure, the slight pain, the mild discomfort. Those would pass. She concentrated on the feeling of him sliding inside her, filling her. His hands grabbed her hips as if to stop her and a growl of frustration rose up in her throat. Bobby broke their kiss and stared at her.

"Did you just ... growl at me?" Alex felt the heat burn across her bare skin; her cheeks, her neck, the tops of her breasts, and she averted her eyes.

"I thought you were going to push me away."

"Actually, I was trying to resist pulling you closer." Surprised, she glanced back at him and was caught in his eyes. If that was how he looked at all his lovers, it was no wonder he was considered such a ladies' man. Bathed in his gaze, she felt beautiful, sexy, wanted, worshipped and adored. If she hadn't see him give similar tender looks to suspects during the course of their 'games', she might have fooled herself into believing it was real. The pain in her chest screamed that it was too late, at least a part of her was fooled, but she ignored it.

"Don't resist," she whispered. He smiled at her, that shy, boyish grin that she first fell in love with years ago.

"You're not going to growl at me if I try to kiss you?"

"No, but I might bite you if you don't," she replied with a grin. He gave a bark of laughter and wrapped his arms around her.

"Who knew my quiet little Eames was such a wildcat?" Alex stared at the wall over his shoulder as he began to kiss her collarbone again. ... _my Eames_ ... Not _my Alex_, but it was a start. Holding her tight, he twisted around and lowered her onto the bed. Slowly, almost ... too ... damn ... slowly, he began to ease the rest of the way inside her. A light sweat had broken out on her body as she gripped the blanket in her fists, trying to be patient, trying to let him do this at his own pace, but she wanted that feeling of completeness again, she needed to feel whole. He seemed to hesitate and she raised her hips up off the bed, taking that last inch of him into herself.

She sank back against the mattress, bringing him down with her, but then he started to withdraw. Her legs locked around him, holding him in place.

"Wait, please," she gasped.

"What's wrong? Am I hurting you?" She shook her head, trying to decide how to answer.

"Nothing's wrong," she said. _Everything's perfect_. She couldn't say that, though, because if he knew she was making more of this than she should, he would get all tense and uncomfortable again, or else feel obliged to reciprocate, and it was hard enough knowing he was only faking wanting to be with her - she couldn't stand the thought of him faking love, too. "I just need a moment." He stared down at her, waiting. She couldn't look at him, couldn't stand to see the softness, the gently burning desire in his eyes, and know that it wasn't real. She raised herself up and wrapped her arms around his strong back, nestling her cheek into the hollow of his neck. Touching him felt so good, and she didn't think it had anything to do with the incubus.

She closed her eyes, not to escape, but to remember, to hold onto that moment, to never forget. Right then, she would have given almost anything to stop time, to never let go, to have him forever be what he meant to her at that moment. She felt him take a long, slow breath, then his arms encircled her, one hand stroking her hair.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She swallowed hard, nodded, and then said,

"I'm sure." With great effort, she relaxed her hold enough to look up at him. "I'm ready now." He didn't respond, just kept looking at her with those damned loving eyes, those lying eyes. She deserved this, of course, deserved every bit of the pain she felt. She had asked him to pretend, after all. She just hadn't expected him to be so damn good at it. She lifted her head and kissed him, gently at first, almost chastely, but then his hands rose up to capture her face and she found herself devoured by a kiss of such fierce, burning passion that she was left breathless and lightheaded. "Where ... did you ... learn ... that?" she panted, reaching up to touch her lips with the tips of her fingers. They were all hot and tingly.

"You don't want to know," he said with a slight smirk. "Let's just say it involves the Munich police, several counts of public indecency, and enough beer to drown a clydesdale."

"Robert Goren," she said, laughing, "I don't believe you." He leaned into her and whispered in her ear in German. "Don't do that - you know I don't understand a word you said." He just smiled and gently lowered her to the bed again. "You're not going to tell me, are you?" Still smiling, he began to rock his hips forward, just a small movement, but suddenly, finding a German to English dictionary was the last thing on her mind.

In retaliation, she stretched up and drew his earlobe into her mouth, working the soft, slight salty flesh with her tongue and teeth. The low, almost pornographic moan that issued from him sent a thrill of pleasure through her. His words rolled over her skin like distant thunder when he spoke.

"You keep doing that and I'm going to lose it," he rumbled, his voice strained.

"That's kind of the idea," she murmured in his ear, lightly running her fingernails down his chest. He tensed, drawing a hissing breath in between his teeth as she grazed his nipples. Slowly, deliberately, she did it again, watching as his eyes rolled back in his head until only a sliver of white showed. He groaned and grabbed her wrists in his big hands, forcing her arms up above her head. She tried to pull free, testing him, and he pinned both her wrists to the cot with one hand. With the other, he dragged his fingertips over her face, her lips, down her throat, over her breast. She arched her back, trying to press herself against him, but he pulled back, continuing to tease her with his fleeting caress. She struggled a little harder, but he didn't let go. "I guess somebody should have brought their handcuffs," she gasped, falling back against the mattress.

"They chafe," he said, stone-faced, giving her the old indecipherable Goren look.

"It's too bad you didn't wear a tie, then."

"Yeah." _Maybe next time_. Her breath caught in her throat as the thought ran through her mind. But there would be no next time. And yet, she could have sworn she saw the same second of inspiration, longing and then sadness flash in his dark eyes. Apparently tired of his game, he shifted position, bracing himself as he began to move above her. She shuddered, fighting against herself this time, fighting to suppress the sensations that flashed behind her eyes in Technicolor. She had to hold on, she had to resist, until he was too far gone to come back as well, until he had to finish it. A small sound rose up in her throat, but she bit it back. "My quiet little Eames," Bobby said softly, "silent as the dead. Why don't you give in, let it out?"

"Make me," she gasped, both a challenge and a plea. He arched one eyebrow, a dangerous glint in his eye, a glimpse of what 'bad boy Bobby Goren' must have been like, and then he made her, drawing a strangled cry from her lips with one swift, deep stroke, bringing her to that edge where pleasure almost became pain, and pain, pleasure. He brought his face down within an inch of hers, teasing, tasting her lips, and drinking in the little whimpers she couldn't hold back as he thrust into her again, and again.

She was riding the fringe of her orgasm, fighting to hold it at bay, and struggling to free her hands from his strong grasp. She needed to touch him, to pull him to her, to feel the weight of his body on hers, but he remained above her, still so very far away, still holding back, still resisting.

Her body tensed and she could fight no longer. She cried out, not even recognizing her own voice as it echoed from the bare walls, his name pouring from her lips. Waves of exquisite pleasure rolled over her like the surf of some tropical sea, warm, wet, drowning her in a moment of complete abandon. The sea lifted her, leaving her floating as the waves rolled slowly away, her muscles relaxing. Through the haze that clouded her vision and gave the world a soft glow, she looked up at Bobby and saw him smile, just a slight curve of his lips, at once content, and a little sad. He let go of her hands, but she didn't have the will to move them, not until he started to leave. She grabbed him by the arms.

"No, please don't stop," she whispered, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

"I - I can't - " He started to withdraw, but she surprised him, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him back. A strangled gasp escaped him and he looked down at her in confusion. "Why - ?"

"I want to do this right," she said, wishing she could just tell him the truth. She wanted to feel him come inside her, to hold him as he found his release, to hear him scream her name. Wasn't going to happen, but a girl could dream. "I want nothing to be left unfinished between us." He looked skeptical. "You're looking forward to that aneurysm, I take it?"

"Are those your only reasons? My health and so you can ... dot your i's and cross your t's?"

"Maybe - maybe I'm not ready to let go yet." It was as close to the truth as she could come without risking what little stability they had managed to find. "Come on, hurry up before the afterglow wears off and I change my mind." He stared down at her, his eyes distant, then shook his head and reached behind himself to unlock her ankles from around his waist. She groaned as he stepped away from her. Lying back on the cot, she listened to the still rapid beat of her heart, the glow fading, leaving her feeling chilled, alone and empty. She could feel the tears coming, like a distant train, but she just lay there on the tracks and waited.

Bobby suddenly appeared at her side again, still nude, and she looked up at him, her mind turning slowly. It took a minute for the expression on his face to register, and then she saw the worry, the indecision, the hope and fear in his eyes. She started to ask what was wrong, but then she saw that he had something in his hand. She swallowed hard. It was a condom.

"I - I thought ... if you're - you're sure ..." She nodded slowly, trying to find her voice.

"Good thinking," she whispered, then louder, said, "Do you always carry protection with you?"

"Old habit," he said, turning his back as he tore the foil package open. "When I was in the service, I went though a lot of these. Not now, though, not for years." She was only half paying attention to what he was saying, being far more interested in the thought of what he was doing. She was tempted to step up behind him, wrap her arms around his waist and help, but she had the feeling that such 'help' would probably negate the necessity of the condom all together, and she didn't want that. As tightly wound as he was, it wasn't going to take long, but she wanted him inside her for as long as it took.

He was still standing with his back to her, his head bowed, arms hanging limp at his sides - very strange for such a usually animated man. She just watched him for a moment, waiting, hoping to be struck with the answer, to finally understand what was eating him, why this was so hard.

"Need some help over there?" she asked, making him flinch even though she'd spoken softly. With that slow, fluid grace he so often kept hidden, he moved to the edge of the bed and sat, his face more earnest and serious than she'd ever seen it.

"Are you sure, _really_ sure, Alex? I - I don't want you to agree to this, just - just because ..." He trailed off as she sat up, shaking her head.

"I don't feel sorry for you, and I don't feel obliged, or responsible, or guilty. I love you, Bobby - you're my best friend, and while that would otherwise keep us from doing this, since we don't have a choice, I figure why make it harder than it has to be? We're only human, after all."

"Only human," he repeated, but she could tell he was a million miles away, his thoughts wandering a path she couldn't begin to follow. He came back with a snap, giving her a small, boyish smile. "Best friends, huh?"

"Always," she swore, smiling back. He reached out and caressed her face, his fingers warm on her cheek, and her heart leaped at his touch. She closed her eyes, ignoring the flutter in her stomach, as she did all the incubus's antics. But it wasn't the incubus. She looked up at him, numbed by the realization. Nothing passed between them but the heat of their bodies, the scent of their sweat, the sound of their breathing. He stirred feelings within her that she had been solely blaming on the curse. Now, she wondered how much of it had been magick, and how much was real.

He leaned into her, his kiss deep, hungry, desperate, and she pulled him down on top of her, into her arms, against her body, holding him as if he might slip away if she let go for even a second. He eased himself inside, and she readied herself for a quick, urgent coupling, like a rutting buck at his complacent doe, but he moved gently, slowly, reviving her spent body and quickly drawing her back toward that edge from which she had so recently taken flight. She hadn't thought it possible to climax again so soon, but that just proved she wasn't getting it enough. It had been ... Oh, never mind, it was too depressing to think about. And she certainly wasn't wanting for attention now.

He sped up, driving into her faster, harder, deeper, and she cried out, her muscles tightening around the solid length of him as the first peal of silent thunder racked her body. She felt him tense, his breath ragged against her cheek, and time seemed to stop as the world blurred, everything fading away but the sound of his voice, rough, heavy, rolling through his chest.

"Oh, Alex," he moaned, "Oh, Alexandra!"

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	28. Chapter 28

Author's Note - Thanks for all the reviews. I didn't have time this week to respond - school is almost out and it's crazy/busy at the school where I work. Anyway, thanks to everybody and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

* * *

Alex came back to herself slowly, the ceiling distant and blurry, and not nearly as ugly. She almost laughed - she might have, had she a breath to spare - everything always looked better after a really good roll in the hay. Her fingers trailed along the curve of one muscular arm as Bobby kept most of his weight off of her. That seemed the limit of his energy, though. He lay against her, still safely tucked inside, and breathed into the hollow of her neck. Neither of them moved. She wasn't completely sure if she was really too exhausted, or if she just didn't want to break the spell. She felt so good, so peaceful, so safe, as if nothing bad could ever touch her life again. She knew, in the back of her mind, that it couldn't last, but for now, she let her eyes drift closed, willing to surrender herself to even a moment's rest.

After a moment, when the blood had stopped rushing in her ears and her heartbeat had faded to a quiet patter, she brushed a strand of hair out of her face. As if taking his cue from her, Bobby withdrew, sending one last crackle of cold lightning through her body. He didn't leave, though. He lay beside her, one leg still entwined between hers, his fingers absently stroking her sweat-damp hair.

"I love you, Alex," he whispered. The sounds took far too long to register as words, and then longer still for the meaning of those words to become clear. It was as if her mind were trying to protect her heart, denying the information for as long as it could. It wasn't long enough. For a second, it felt like her heart had seized in her chest; she couldn't breathe. The pain quickly turned to anger, though, and her breaths came short and fast.

"You're cruel," she said, her voice deep and thick as she sat up and pulled away from his touch. "You didn't have to do that." He sat up and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Wait, Eames - " She shook him off and stood up, staggering across the cell to her pile of clothes, words pouring from her mouth as she fumbled into her underwear, thoughts she'd been holding inside all night, feelings she didn't want to share, but now, couldn't stop.

"No, I should have known better, asking you to pretend, but I couldn't stand the thought of another session like the first. I should have just left bad enough alone and closed my eyes, but no, I didn't want to hurt you. Never mind the agony you put me through. I had to constantly remind myself that the love in you eyes wasn't real, because the second I didn't, I started to believe. Isn't that what you want to hear, that the Great Robert Goren can fool anyone, even his partner? Your only mistake was pushing it too far, because I _am_ your partner, I know you better than anyone, and I _know_ you'd never say that." She snatched his boxers up off the floor and threw them at him.

"Alex, I - "

"Now you get personal. Now it's okay to use my first name. How does it fit into your strategy, your game? How long did it take to decide to call me Alexandra in the throes of passion, or were you faking that, too?" She felt hot tears running down her face. Her words were becoming harder to find, threatening to dissolve into one long scream, but she kept coming back to the same question. "Why did you say that?" He stood up and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her around to face him.

"Because it's true." She stared up at him, her gut twisting like a bed of serpents. How could he be so heartless, continuing to play with her like that? That's what he was doing, that's what it had to be. He couldn't be telling the truth. No matter how much she wanted it to be, it couldn't be the truth. It couldn't be. He was playing her. He had to be. Because if he wasn't ...

She drove her fist into his gut. The breath rushed from his lungs. He doubled over in pain and surprise. She landed a sharp right hook on the left side of his face. Her left was a little off, her fist slamming him in the mouth. His teeth cut into her knuckles, but she barely felt it. She wanted to hurt him, to kill him, to make him suffer half the pain he was putting her through. He reeled back, spitting blood, and grabbed her by the shoulders as she lunged at him again. She found herself face down on the cot, one arm twisted up behind her back with a knee between her shoulder blades before she could react.

"Get off of me!" she shouted, expecting him to relent as she struggled to get up. She was wrong. Pain lanced through her shoulder as he applied pressure to her arm, threatening to pull it right out of the socket. She went still, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Bobby asked, his words slightly slurred. "What did I do?"

"You lied to me," she spat. "You're still lying, like this is some kind of game, like I'm some suspect you're trying to force a confession from. Well you can just knock it off, because I'm not saying it."

"Not saying what?"

"That I love you." He was silent for a moment, then he let go of her arm and took his knee out of her back.

"I never expected you to," he said softly. She sat up, holding her shoulder as she rolled it in either direction. It hurt, but there was no permanent damage. "I didn't hurt you, did I? Your - your shoulder, I mean."

"It's fine," she replied coldly. "Hardly noticeable next to the pain of you ripping my damned heart out."

"Look, Alex, I don't understand. I told you that I couldn't pretend. I didn't mean that I couldn't pretend to _love_ you, I meant that I couldn't _pretend_ to love you." She shook her head, not in any mood for his convoluted logic.

"Just stop, Bobby, you're not making any sense."

"No, Alex, listen to me. I can't pretend to be a cop, because I am a cop. I can't pretend to be a man, because I am a man. And I can't pretend to love you, because I - I do love you. Am I making sense now?" She just stared at him, at the red welt on his cheek, at the blood dripping down his chin. Oh God, what had she done? He continued; "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it, I - I shouldn't be saying any of this, but you deserve to know." He swallowed hard. "The reason it was so ... hard to let you be with me, is because - because I wanted it so much. I wanted you ... so much, and when I realized that I was hoping the curse would catch the two of us in a room together, I - I wanted to throw myself into the East River. I'm sorry, Eames, I tried to make you leave, I tried to keep from taking advantage of you, but - but I ..." His voice trailed off as he let his eyes fall to the floor. "I've known for a long time that it would be so easy to love you; I never meant to allow myself to." It hurt too much to look at his face, so, like a coward, she closed her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Bobby," she said, her voice small, hollow in her ears, her words grossly inadequate, but it was the only thing she could think of to say. She forced herself to look at her handiwork, at the red mark on his cheek, at the blood smearing his chin where his teeth had come through his lip. She glanced down at her left hand, at the blood on her knuckles, and only then did she feel the pain. He was waiting, needing her to say something, anything to make this all okay again, but she didn't even know where to begin.

The silence dragged on, heavy, interminable, and Bobby finally sighed and began to turn away. Alex leaped to her feet, her outstretched hand finding his arm, stopping him. He glanced back, eyes dark and questioning, and she knew that if she failed to speak now, they would have little chance of surviving this. "I - I wanted to be with you, too," she said, her throat aching with unshed tears. He turned to face her and she saw it again, that little boy looking out at her, wanting to believe. "When I thought you were pretending to love me, it hurt so much because I wanted it to be real. When you held me, touched me, kissed me, I wanted it to be real. Making love to you felt so good, so right, and I wanted you to feel it, too, that's why I insisted we finish it." He reached out and cupped her cheek in his big hand, his fingers sliding into her hair.

"We did make love, didn't we?" he whispered.

He wrapped her in his arms and held her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. A pressure was building in the middle of her chest, an ache that pulled at the back of her throat and made her eyes fill with tears again. First instinct was to fight it, to bury it, but she was so tired, exhausted in body, mind and soul, and she didn't feel like fighting any more. Let the tears come. It wouldn't be the first time she had cried that night. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath, but instead of a sob, it came out as a sigh. The pressure in her chest welled up and spilled over, easing her pain like a warm bath.

Her pain. It didn't do anything for the hurt she must have caused him.

"Bobby, I - I'm sorry." That wasn't what she intended to say, but _those_ words seemed to stick in her throat. He was silent for a moment.

"I know, Alex. Me too."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	29. Chapter 29

Author's Note - A big thank you to brynnamorgan, Lina-Baggins, The X-Pig, KendraC, thousand-miles, TrinityWildcat, Eliza, 08ClassicRockChicky08, Claire M C, Carissa, justawriter, Sw33tangelgrl, ShadowSage2, Angelfirenze, Shell, and TriStateCopFan for their wonderful reviews.

Specifically:

KendraC - I'm not in class, I teach class, sort of. I'm a substitute at an elementary school, and this time of year everyone calls in 'sick' at least once. But hey, only four more days and then I'm free! And he was cute in Mystic Pizza. It's a pretty good movie.

Eliza - I figured if I tried to drag it out any longer, it was going to turn into a soap opera, and I didn't want that.

08ClassicRockChicky08 - Hey, love the new name. Classic rock rocks! LOL, Ch 27 - 'quiet' just refers to the fact that shs was so silent the first time. I have not seen Full Metal Jacket, but I have heard about VDO's role. He gained seventy pounds for it. I may have to hunt down a copy and check it out.

ShadowSage2 - I'm glad you enjoyed. Yes, back to the main plot - saving Bobby and catching the bad guy - although that's easier said than done. As to what Alex wanted to say, that's open to interpretation. I like to think she wanted to say 'I love you', but she could have been thinking 'Let's just be friends'. I guess we just have to wait and see.

Angelfirenze - You've been hearing good things? From where? Hope you like the rest as much as the first three chapters.

* * *

How long they stood in the middle of the cell, just holding each other, Alex wasn't sure, but it must have been a long time.

"Hello? It everything okay? Alex?" Olivia's voice echoed down the corridor. Reluctantly, Alex drew away from Bobby.

"It's time to -" she started, looking around for her pants.

"I know," Bobby said. "Time to finish this and go home." _Alone_, Alex added silently, with just a hint of sadness. She quickly slipped into her clothes.

"Are you two ... finished?" Olivia's voice was right on the other side of the curtain. Alex glanced at Bobby as he pulled on his jeans.

"It's okay, Olivia," Alex called. "We're decent." Olivia pushed through the blankets, her large, dark eyes wide and cautious, as if she didn't quite believe Alex and was afraid she'd catch them in the act. Alex waited for the inevitable '_What the hell happened to you?_' as she caught sight of Bobby's face, but it never came.

"Are you ready? John says we better get moving if we want to do this before dawn."

"Before dawn?" Alex repeated, only half listening. Was Olivia not looking, or was light bad? She glanced up at Bobby, and her mouth fell open. The blood was gone from his face, along with the welt she'd left, and the shiner Elliot had given him.

"Yeah, apparently, something bad will happen if the sun rises in the middle of the spell. What are you doing?" Bobby had been trying to button his denim shirt, but Alex pushed his hands away and quickly undid the few he'd managed to fasten. She tugged at one side of the shirt, trying to pull it off his shoulder.

"What's going on, Eames?" Bobby asked, a slight frown on his face.

"How's that lip?" she replied. He touched the point of injury, his frown deepening. He reached up and plucked the bandage off the cut above his eye. Alex's eyes widened. It was healed without a mark. In a moment, he'd stripped his shirt off and turned his back toward her.

"You want me to leave?" Olivia asked, taking a step toward the curtain. They ignored her. Alex loosened the edge of the surgical tape that held the bloodied gauze pad in place. Fast or slow, this was going to hurt. She took hold and ripped downward, bringing a hiss of pain from her partner. One by one, she picked off the suture strips, but after the second, it was clear what she would find. Silently, Alex guided Bobby to take a step backward, nearer the bars, and Olivia gasped. "What - ? How?" Alex looked up at Bobby.

"Two damn good questions," she said.

* * *

Bobby straddled the chair, his forearms resting on the back, as Munch, Elliot, Huang and Deakins examined the place on his upper back where the wound had been. He sat patiently, all but ignoring them, watching Alex with dark eyes. His expression mirrored her thoughts exactly - _Now what do we do?_ Office policy discouraged the pursuit of a relationship, especially if they wanted to remain partners, but they had never been known for their strict adherence to the rules. But did they even _want_ a romantic relationship? Love didn't necessarily lead to romance. She couldn't exactly see herself married to him; she hadn't really planned on ever marrying again, and sharing a Santa mug full of pens was one thing, sharing a bathroom was completely different. She glanced away from him as Munch turned to her.

"And you're sure his injuries were still there after you were ... intimate?"

"Well, no, I can't be _sure_," Alex said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I was a little preoccupied."

"So we heard," Logan said, giving Bobby a way-to-go grin. Bobby ignored him.

"Sex is a very powerful magick," Munch said in all seriousness. "You probably just didn't notice - "

"Look," Alex interrupted, "it couldn't have been the sex." She hadn't wanted to mention their fight, but it looked like she didn't have a choice. "After we had sex, there was a - a misunderstanding. I got angry, and - and it got physical - "

"_Did he hit you_?" Elliot and Edward asked in one voice. Alex rolled her eyes.

"I hit him, okay. I left a red mark here -" She reached out and touched her fingertips to his cheek. "- and my fist went through his lip and into his teeth. I had cuts on my knuckles, but they're gone, too." She flexed her fingers, watching the unmarked skin slide across her joints.

"You shared blood?" Munch asked quietly. She and Bobby exchanged glances.

"Probably, a little. We were both bleeding." Munch looked at the floor, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"And after the fight, then what?"

"We made up," Alex said, trying to make it sound inconsequential. "It was just a misunderstanding, after all. And no," she said to Logan's raised eyebrows, "it wasn't _that_ kind of making up." A heavy silence filled the room, and it was pretty clear that no one believed her. Honestly, she couldn't have cared less.

"I take it back, Alex," Munch said, "you would make a _very_ good witch. Healing takes a lot of power, whether it's intentional or incidental. With practice, you could be one of the best."

"No thank you," Alex said, slowly waving her hands in front of her. "No offense, but once this is over, the closest I want to get to a witch is watching _The Wizard of Oz_ with my nephew."

"Pity," Munch said, sounding genuinely disappointed. "The Council's been at me for years to take an apprentice."

"Anybody here order a pizza?" Fin asked, sauntering into the room from the direction of the main doors, his arms stacked with boxes. Alex's stomach gave a painful twist as the delectable aromas of pepperoni, tomato sauce, pineapple and melting cheese wafted through the air. Behind her, somebody's gut growled in protest, and they all moved as one, like a pack of flesh-eating zombies toward their prey. In moments, Fin was stripped of his cargo and left standing alone in the middle of the room. "You're welcome - ingrates," he muttered, wandering over to where Olivia and Munch were sharing a cheese and tomato pizza.

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver," Olivia said, wiping her mouth on a napkin before leaning over and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Alex raised her eyebrows. Things sure were different around here. Smiling slightly, Fin snagged himself a slice and glanced at his partner.

"Thanks," Munch said, "but you can forget about a kiss."

"I'm heartbroken," Fin replied, his smile widening.

"Do all witches and warlocks take apprentices?" Bobby asked suddenly, looking up from the slice of pepperoni, green pepper and black olives that he'd been meticulously stripping the olives from. Munch stared at him over the top of his glasses while he chewed and swallowed.

"It's strongly recommended," the warlock said. "Magick gets lost when it's not passed down. So much has been lost already, most of us take two or three in a lifetime, just to make sure."

"Even Raum?" Munch drew a slow breath in between his teeth, a soft hissing sound.

"Dark witches and warlocks have their own ways, I'm afraid." He set down the rest of his pizza and took that lecturer's stance again. "They only teach those they intend to kill. Unlike us, they don't pass on their knowledge for posterity. They _want_ to be remembered as the last great warlock, the last great witch. When they do find someone with promise, someone powerful, but untrained, someone like Alex, actually, they take them as an apprentice, and teach them whatever they can. Our power is like a muscle that you can't see or feel, but you have to use it for it to become stronger. A dark warlock will wait until the power is awakened in their apprentice, and then they will kill them, stealing that power for their own. In this way, the master can go on forever, until he makes the mistake of getting too greedy, waiting too long, and letting the apprentice become strong enough to fight back and win. Then the apprentice becomes the master, and the cycle starts all over again." Alex glanced up at Bobby.

"What are you thinking?" she asked. He stared blankly at the wall, then shook his head.

"I don't know ... something." Behind them, Captain Cragen cleared his throat from the doorway of his office.

"The next shift is on it's way," he said wearily, his coat in hand. "I told Captain Owens that you guys were in the middle of a drill and were not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Hopefully that'll keep everyone off the roof." Bobby set his half-eaten pizza on the box lid and wiped his hands on a napkin.

"Can I ask you a favor, Captain Cragen?" he asked. Cragen hesitated.

"I suppose." Bobby headed down the hallway, back toward lockup, and motioned for Cragen to follow. They disappeared into the break room. The room peered curiously after them.

"So," Alex said after a moment, "what can we expect up there, with this spell stuff?"

"I couldn't begin to guess," Munch replied. "Magick like this is, by definition, unpredictable. When drawing on your own energy, like I do when I heal, it either works or it doesn't, but when you go calling up otherworldly powers, like we're going to, anything goes."

"Otherworldly powers?" Novak repeated, sounding more than a little uneasy.

"Yeah, God and Goddess, the Elements, that sort of thing. Most of the time, if you ask nicely, the tend to do what you want, but sometimes ... " He shrugged and took a bite of pizza, as if that explained something.

"We really _don't_ want to know what could happen, do we?"

"Probably not," Munch replied. Alex waited for the others to run for the hills, Edward, Novak and Carver, at least, but nobody moved, except Logan, who grabbed up the last slice of pepperoni. A heavy silence descended on the squad room, broken only by the quiet sounds of eating. It suddenly dawned on Alex that this could very well be their last meal. Amazing how fast pizza could turn to cardboard in your mouth. They glanced up from their separate thoughts as Bobby and Cragen emerged from the break room, the captain with a small plastic evidence bag in his hand and Bobby stripping off a pair of latex gloves.

"Get this to Raul, you said?" Cragen asked. Bobby nodded.

"He owes me one. Ask him to call me as soon as the results are in. Thanks again, Captain." Alex tried to make out what was in the bag as Cragen slipped it into his front shirt pocket, but all she could tell was that it was small and black.

"What are you up to?" she asked as Bobby returned to her side to finish his pizza.

"I have a hunch," he replied, a thoughtful crease in his brow. Cragen slipped his coat on as he headed for the door.

"Good luck with your ..." He waved his hand in a _whatever_ gesture. "I'm going to try to catch some sleep. And remember, worker's comp won't cover you if you turn into frogs. Good night." Across the room, Munch sighed.

"Okay, you heard the Captain, finish up. Sunrise is in an hour and a half." Alex paused with her pizza halfway to her mouth. Hadn't Olivia said something bad would happen at dawn?

"What happens at sunrise?" she asked. "Besides the obvious?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Munch admitted, "the texts aren't clear, but I'd rather we not find out. I guarantee it won't be pretty."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	30. Chapter 30

Author's Note - Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate it.

**Question** - Just out of curiosity, where in the world are you guys (generally speaking)? I'm in Oregon, USA and was just wondering.

Angelfirenze - Thank you so much, your reviews made me laugh outloud. Glad you liked the hotness. And thanks for corroborating my theory on Elliot. I knew I wasn't off base with that, LOL.

The X-Pig - Glad you liked it, and yes, that's what it was. You're very observant.

KendraC - Thank you. You don't really expect me to give that away, do you? LOL. Don't worry, I'll try to answer at least one of those questions in the next couple of chapters.

TrinityWildcat - Thanks. And I sense that you're right, LOL.

TriStateCopFan - Thank you. It was nice to have Bobby back, if only temporarily. He's still a little 'out of it' and will get worse before he gets better, but I plan to have him back in top form before the end. We'll see how that works out, I guess. What was in the bag? The X-Pig figured it out. I'm not going to say, LOL.

Strawberry-ksc - Thank you. I know I've done something right if I make somebody _feel_ something.

Carissa - Honey, if you don't like suspence, stop reading! Just kidding, don't stop, but I do tend to end my chapters on cliffhangers. This one, for example. Hope you enjoy.

justawriter - The one good thing about Mondays is I _get_ to update, so I'd say we're equally sad, LOL. Thanks for the review.

brynnamorgan - Thank you. I value your opinion so much. I make up and/or change so much as I go along, it's nice to know it's still believable. The actual incubus removal spell, though, I had to write that to fit the plot, so it's going to be way off, I know that. Hope it's not too ugly, LOL.

bammi1 - Thank you for the review. Glad you liked it. Hope you enjoy this next part, too.

Lina-Baggins - Thank you. Sorry for making you wait so long. I know bad Goren withdrawl can be, LOL. It's why I had to buy Season 3 on DVD.

Shell - Thanks, glad you liked it. And I actually went back and added the echoing just for you, 'cause I realized that you were right, it would echo. That, and Logan just had to say _something_, didn't he? LOL

ShadowSage2 - I'm afraid you'll have to twitch a little longer; they've got some pre-spell ground-rules to cover and, well ... few things in life actually go as planned. Just remember, put a stick between your teeth so you don't bite your tongue off, LOL. (Oh, man, I'm twisted.) Bobby won't blow up, but he also won't be _breathing_, either, so let's hope that get it done in time. Yes, the end is near, but I wouldn't start crying yet. This isn't over 'till it's over.

08ClassicRockChicky08 - Thanks for the review, glad you liked it. Hope you enjoy this next chapter, too.

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Four o'clock in the morning in New York City is about as quiet as it gets. Alex could barely hear the hum of wheels on pavement, the occasional honk of a car horn, and the muted roar of a jet sailing through the dark, moonless sky overhead. The stars were all but obscured by the city lights, leaving only the brightest to glimmer weakly in the faded black of the night. Alex breathed deep of the cool air, scenting tar and the old, musty odor of the air conditioning unit. Bobby walked past, apparently lost in his own thoughts, because he didn't seem to notice her. She stared after him, breathing the faint, manly smell of him on the bitter city wind.

Sighing, she shook her head. He was such a private man, so quiet, so shy; the only time he ever talked about himself, his friends, his family was when it helped him to understand a case. She couldn't imagine what it had taken for him to open up to her. And she couldn't even manage to tell him how much she cared about him in return. He was Bobby - of course he knew, but it wasn't the same as hearing the words from her own lips. She took a deep breath and started toward him. She didn't get very far, though.

"Are you ready for this?" Munch asked, appearing at her side. She stared at Bobby's broad back silhouetted against the glow from the streetlights, then turned to face the warlock.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess," she replied, tossing her hair back out of her face and trying to put on a brave, unconcerned front. Apparently, it didn't work.

"Don't worry," Munch said, resting his hand on her shoulder, "I'll walk you though the whole thing. It should be a piece of cake."

"_Should be_," Alex repeated, "but Raum is still out there, somewhere." Munch gave her shoulder a squeeze, then let his hand fall to his side.

"I put in a call while you were with Goren," he said. "I went ahead and called in a favor from an old friend. I won't say more than that, just in case _someone_ is listening, but we are covered, at least a little."

"That's good to know," Alex said with a forced laugh, her eyes darting across the faces of the buildings rising up around them. So many dark, blank windows, so many roof tops, so many fire escapes. Her fingers touched the cold butt of her gun before she realized she was reaching. She put her hands in her pockets.

"All right, everyone," Munch said, taking a step away from her and raising his hands for attention. If Alex hadn't known better, she'd have sworn he was enjoying this. "If you could clear this area, please, and Alex come forward, thank you." Reaching into his box of tricks, Munch pulled out the bag of sea salt. "Okay, Alex," he said, handing the bag to her, "just draw a circle in salt, about fifteen feet across, clockwise. It doesn't have to be perfect."

"Could we light some candles, or something?" she asked. "I can hardly see a thing."

"I wouldn't want to draw unwanted attention," Munch said, glancing into the pre-dawn sky.

"Raum?" Olivia asked.

"Him too, but I was more worried about news choppers. Can't you just see us on the six o'clock news, right after the morning traffic report?" There were hints of nervous laughter. She could see the story, all right, and it ended with all of them in Bellevue. Alex took a moment to visually measure out the area as best she could before describing the circle. "Make sure the ends touch," Munch said once she'd reached the beginning.

"Okay, now what?" she asked, handing him the bag. He swapped her for a bundle of dried herbs with a spicy, pungent smell. A match flared to life in his hand and he lit the herbs on fire. They flamed for a moment, then began to smolder, releasing a thick, eye-stinging gray smoke. "Will I be able to pass a UA after this?" she asked, trying not to inhale.

"It's just sage," Munch said with a smirk. One of the guys muttered, "Too bad," but she couldn't tell which one. They all chuckled, except Carver, who still had that dour, dazed expression. "Make another circle," Munch instructed, "same direction as before, and try not to step on the salt." Alex solemnly paced off the distance around the circle, thinking nothing of it as she tried to keep the irritating smoke out of her eyes, until she caught Logan's smirking face peering at her over Dr. Huang's head. Now she noticed Elliot and Fin grinning uneasily, and Deakins hiding his smile behind his hand. She suddenly realized how ridiculous she must look, and it was all she could do to complete the circle without dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"Here," she said, trying to hand Munch his burning bush. He motioned toward the center of the circle.

"Toss it in there," he said. "It needs to ground the circle and purify the air. It'll burn itself out in a few minutes." Carefully walking around the outside of the circle, Munch gathered his 'coven' around him like a school teacher on a field trip. "Number one: nobody must enter the circle until I say, got it? Number two: this is the last chance to back out. If you want to quit, say so now - we'll probably call you names, throw stones at you and forget your birthday, but there won't be any permanent damage. Once we do this next part, the Binding, only we twelve can work the spell without about three days worth of unbinding chants. Understand?" There were twelve murmurs of assent. "Does anyone want out?" Alex glanced at Edward, who met her eyes unflinchingly, and then smiled. No one spoke up. "All right, let's get on with this."

Munch had them line up and recite a simple incantation. Simple in word, at least.

"I, Alexandra Eames, hereby bind myself and my spirit and my energy to the task before me, to free a soul from the dark magicks of another, with only love and peace and friendship to guide my hand, else my work be for naught. So I swear." All the fancy wording aside, she'd basically chained herself to this spell, which would only work if everyone participated with pure and selfless intentions. She eyed Elliot, Novak, Carver and Bishop as they said the words, searching for some sign that they really understood what they were getting into. Only Bishop seemed to take it seriously, reciting the lines flawlessly and without prompting. Show-off.

When everyone was dutifully sworn in, Munch allowed them a five minute break to stretch their legs, use the restroom or get one last cup of coffee before they began the spell. Apparently, once you started, there were no bathroom breaks. Alex made a bee-line over to where Bobby was standing at the edge of the roof, staring down into the street below.

"I do love you," she said quietly.

"I know."

"I needed to say it."

"Thanks." They were silent for a moment. "I don't want to pretend that nothing's changed, Eames. I want to be able to - to look at you without feeling guilty that I've seen you at you most vulnerable ... and most beautiful. Even - even if we ... never again - I _want_ to remember." She didn't respond at first, letting the moments she'd saved replay through her mind: his hands, his lips, his skin, his touch, his kiss. She casually reached over and entwined her fingers with his.

"Please remember," she said, "and if I start to forget, you can remind me." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him glance her way. She smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. Yes, she meant exactly what he thought she meant. Never _was_ a very long time, after all. They dropped hands and she turned as footsteps crunched on the gravel behind them.

"Sorry, Alex," Munch said, "you'll have to save the pillow-talk for later. I have something important to discuss with you two." Alex let his comment slide. She knew when to pick her battles and the meaning of the phrase: 'The lady doth protest too much.' Beside her, Bobby turned away from the street.

"Like what caused our wounds to heal?" he asked. Munch waved his hand dismissively.

"No, I already know why that happened," he said. "Well, I have a pretty good idea." Alex raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

"And were you going to tell us?" Munch glanced around, making sure they couldn't be overheard.

"When shared by the right people for the right reasons, really, _really_ good, earth-shattering, life-changing sex is the second most powerful force in the universe." He paused, waiting.

"Okay, I'll bite," Alex said, rolling her eyes. "What's the first?"

"Love." She and Munch turned to look up at Bobby. He was staring off between the buildings, that deeply contemplative look on his face.

"That's right," Munch said, sounding irritated at having his thunder stolen, "but not just any love. This is the idea from which all other loves are born. It will not weaken with time or distance, will not be tarnished by thought or deed, cannot be marred by jealously or spite, and cannot be silenced by fear or pride. It's the kind of love you read about in fairy tales, that awakens the dead with a kiss, that cures the ill with a touch, that turns frogs into princes and beasts into men."

"That's very pretty," Alex said, chancing a glance at her partner. He was still gazing off into the distance. Yes, she loved him, but it couldn't be _that_ kind of love. They were sensible adults, after all, not horny, hormone-crazed, idealistic adolescents. "But I don't believe in fairy tales."

"This morning, you didn't believe in magick, either," Munch pointed out with a smirk. "The stories had to start somewhere. Anyway," he continued before she could form a protest, "what I came over to talk to you about. Detective Goren, this is for you." He handed Bobby a faded pink hydrangea blossom.

"Thank you," Bobby said, taking the flower, "but I already have a date for the prom." Alex smirked silently, trying to keep from laughing.

"Everybody's a comedian," Munch muttered, rolling his eyes. "Hydrangeas are used to break hexes, Detective, and you're really not my type. Also, I need to know what you want done with the incubus."

"Done with it? I want it out of my partner, that's what I want done with it."

"Yes, but do you want it sent back where it came from, or do you want it put into something ... or someone?"

"Not someone," Bobby said immediately. "No one should have to suffer this."

"And I don't think Raum should get it back," Alex said. "He's dangerous enough now. I shudder to imagine the carnage if he suddenly got his passion back."

"Well, they do say that revenge is a dish best served cold," Munch said, raising one shoulder in half a shrug.

"But this isn't even _his_ revenge," Alex pointed out. "It's Nicole's."

"_If_ he can be believed," Bobby said. Munch peered at him over the tops of his glasses.

"We tend not to lie; untruth does strange things to the magick." Munch said. "If he said it, then he should be believed. Usually. Did he mention Nicole Wallace first, or did you?" Alex frowned as she played back their coversation in her head.

"I did ... No, he did, he said something about 'the one that got away, not once, but three times' and then I asked if Nicole put him up to this. That's when he told me about pulling her out of the river."

"I suppose it's possible that he just read about Nicole in the papers and is using her to distract you, to keep you from seeing his real motive, whatever that might be." Munch stared up into the sky as he rubbed his chin. "Are you sure you didn't drop his little brother out of a thirty story window or something?"

"Very funny, Detective," Alex said, glancing up at her partner. One eyebrow twitched in a frown and she gave him a small 'I'll explain later' smile. She wasn't surprised - if it wasn't on PBS or the Discovery Channel, it wasn't worth watching. One of these days, she was going to have to introduce him to the joys of overacting and gratuitous violence. "So, back to the incubus, what do we need to put it into? A box?"

"Something metal, silver or gold, preferably, and fairly sturdy. If the item is destroyed, the incubus will return to Raum, unless he's dead, and then it will latch on to whoever's nearest." Alex rummaged through her pockets, finding a pack of gum, a blue hair scrunchy, sixteen cents in change and a wrinkled grocery receipt.

"Will this work?" Bobby asked, holding out a worn gold wedding band. Munch took it, examined it, and handed it back.

"That'll do. Don't lose it." Bobby slipped the ring on his finger.

"Do you always carry that with you?" Alex asked. It was the prop ring he used whenever they went out as a married couple. Hers was locked in her desk.

"It was in the jeans," Bobby said with a crooked smile. "Forgot to ... put it away after the last case."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Coleman's missing bull, Pepper Jack." She turned to Munch. "Can you imagine a bull worth one hundred and fifty thousand dollars?"

"That's some expensive T-bones."

"He was bull of the year on the professional bull riding circuit," Bobby said. "Ridden once in eighty-three times out, with an average score of forty-seven. That nets you twenty-five thousand a pop for stud fees."

"I didn't peg you for a bull riding fan," Munch said. Alex laughed and shook her head.

"It was a case, which makes him an expert. _He_ fit right in with all those cowboy types. _I_, however, ended up knee deep in manure. You did look good in that hat, though," she added, a teasing smile on her face. "Too bad you had to return it to wardrobe."

"The one they had was too small," he said. "I bought my own."

"You took it back, I suppose." He shrugged, a playful quirk hiding at the corner of his mouth.

"I've been meaning to. Haven't really found the time. Maybe this weekend. Unless you - you think I should keep it." Alex shrugged back, trying to keep her face straight and finding it increasingly difficult. She kept picturing Bobby in that black Stetson ... and not much else. What was the saying these days, 'Save a horse, ride a cowboy'? She shook her head and took a calming breath, then glanced up to find Munch watching her with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" Alex put on a penitent face and shook her head. "Do you mind if we get started, then?" She held her hands up in surrender, not ready to trust what might come out of her mouth.

"So, what's my part in this?" Bobby asked, twirling the hydrangea between his fingers.

"Just stand there and look pretty," Munch said with a smirk. He turned around, raising his voice as he called for attention. "Is everybody here?" They glanced around and did a quick headcount. "Good. Everyone got their plants?" Several people nodded and murmured affirmatively. Taking a deep breath, Munch nodded solemnly. "All right, let's do this." It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop, or the beat of a crow's wing.

"Alex, look out!" She glanced up as Bobby shouted, instinctively reaching for her weapon, but before her fingers could touch the butt, or the dark shape in the sky above her head could register, she found herself flat on her back, the gravel digging into her shoulders as Bobby's weight drove the air from her lungs. Light flared, a horrible red-gold light, flickering like hellfire, surrounding them, burning her eyes, stinging her skin, scorching her lungs as she drew breath and screamed.

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Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	31. Chapter 31

Author's note - Thanks for all the reviews, I'm so glad you're still enjoying this. Who'd have thought vacation would be more hectic than work? Sorry, no time for individual replies this time. Thanks for everyone who included where they are. Wow, you guys are all over the place. I love it. Anyway, enjoy!

**Advanced warning:** I will be camping from July 7th through July 12th and will have no computer access, so there'll be no updates that weekend. Sorry. I'll try to give you something good to chew on while I'm gone.

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The scream echoed in her ears long after she'd run out of breath. No, it was other screams, Olivia's voice, Novak's, Edward's. She clutched at Bobby's shirt as the fire danced around them, licking at her face. The stench of burnt hair filled her nostrils and she buried her face in his neck, breathing in the strong, safe scent of her partner. As scared as she was, with the roar of the flames and the screams of her friends in her ears, there was a tiny core of peace in her chest, like a small star, glowing with a light as different from the killing fire as night is from day. This was a light to heal, to protect, not to hurt, not to destroy. She let it fill her, felt it spill over into Bobby, fill him, and spread outward, refusing to be confined any longer.

She was dying - that was only explanation, but instead of her moving into the light, the light began to fade, the fire guttering and winking out like a candle snuffed by the wind. For a moment, she thought she'd been struck blind as the night fell about her like a velvet curtain, the silence impossibly loud in her ears. Every breath hurt, rattling in her chest and making her want to cough.

Okay, maybe she wasn't dead, but she should have been, would have been, if not for ...

"Bobby?" her voice was dry, brittle, barely more than a whisper. Her fingers were still clutching his shirt and she gave him a shake. He groaned, slowly raising up on his elbows and taking most of the weight off her chest. Breathing suddenly became a lot easier.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath soft on her cheek. She blinked and turned her face toward him, ghostly after-images swimming across her vision as she tried to focus.

"I - I think so," she replied. Her face stung, the skin hot and tight when she spoke, like a really bad sunburn. "Are you?" He nodded and she caught the movement through the fading greenish-silver glow. He reached up and brushed her hair back from her face.

"Your hair is burnt ... crumbly, right here." She tried not to smile; it hurt, but she let the relief show in her voice.

"All things considered, I'm not that upset. I've been needing to get it cut." They just stared at each other a moment, silent, yet communicating volumes just with their eyes. She raised her head off the ground, intent upon gracing his shyly smiling mouth with a kiss, but he drew back a fraction, his eyes widening ever so slightly, and she shifted her gaze past him to the circle of silent spectators gathered around. Deakins was wearing a worried frown. "You think we could get a hand here?" Alex asked, her raspy voice cracking as she raised it to be heard. Half a dozen of them jumped forward, pulling them to their feet and talking at once.

"It was horrible ... how ever did you ... the fire was all around ... you were _burning_, I swear ... there was this light; you _glowed_ ...then the fire just went out ..."

"Okay, okay, okay," Alex shouted, or tried to, her voice creaking like a rusty hinge. She searched through the faces until she found Munch. "What the hell just happened?" she demanded.

"Raum tried to kill you."

"I thought he couldn't do that without touching me. That's what you said."

"Fine, if you want to split hairs, he tried to set you on fire. That he can do from a distance." There was a stunned silence.

"Then what are we still doing on this roof?" Edward asked, taking a step toward the door. Novak and Logan glanced at the sky, the ADA following Edward's lead.

"I told you it would be dangerous," Munch reminded them. "However, it's unlikely that Raum will attack again, not like that. He failed, and wasted a great deal of energy in the process. He'll need time to recover and come up with a different plan."

"So why didn't it work?" They all turned to look at Bishop, standing near the edge of the circle, the athame in her hands. "Why aren't they dead?" Attention returned to Munch.

"Why do you always look to me for the answer?" he asked, scowling in irritation.

"Maybe 'cause you're the only one of us with a Hogwarts diploma?" Fin suggested. "Now answer the lady's question; Why ain't these two barbecue?"

"I thought it would be obvious - Alex has the makings of a very powerful witch. Something triggered her innate power and it repelled the dark magick."

"But what triggered it?" Bishop pressed, her gray-green eyes catching the faint street light as she fixed her stare on Alex. Alex stared back, unease rolling in the pit of her stomach.

"That little bitch," she murmured. "She knows." Bobby leaned closer and she said it again for his benefit. "She knows about us."

"It could be any number of reasons," Munch was saying. "Probably fear. Self preservation is -" The night flared like a flash grenade had gone off. Alex jerked away, raising her hand to protect her eyes. Bobby wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her back against his chest. Someone screamed. Alex brought her head back around, squinting at the white-hot inferno blazing away on the far side of the roof, near the circle. What was burning?

"Oh, my God," she heard Bobby whisper. "Bishop."

"Somebody call for a bus!" Elliot shouted, removing his jacket as he surged forward, but the heat was too intense to get close enough to try and smother the flames. He staggered back, the outside of his forearm blistered. Alex watched in horror as Bishop just stood there and burned. Why - How - was she still standing? Was that part of Raum's evil magick, to force you to stand and burn? She shuddered.

Suddenly, the conflagration imploded, folding in on itself and plunging the rooftop back into blackness. Alex blinked furiously, momentarily blinded as those gray-green ghosts flitted across her vision. While her eyes adjusted, she waited apprehensively for Bishop's smoldering remains to come into focus. She knew what to expect, knew she didn't want to see it, but couldn't look away.

"What is that?" she heard Olivia ask. Squinting, Alex could barely make out a small, gray pile of _something_ lying on the graveled rooftop. Was that all that was left? Several of them, herself and Bobby included, took a step closer. It looked like laundry; a gray jacket, dark green blouse, she could even see a shoe. So what, it burned everything but her clothes? Alex jumped as the pile twitched, then heaved, and a large gray and black bird jumped free.

"It's a bird," Logan said, sounding dumbfounded. "The son of a bitch turned her into a bird!"

"Least she's not dead," Fin said quietly. "You can turn her back, can't you John?"

"That's - No, that's beyond my power." He sounded stunned. "I didn't think it was possible to force a shape-change on someone."

"That's a crow," Bobby pointed out, "a hooded crow - see the black hood, wings and tail. Hoodies are native to Europe."

"Raum sounded European," Alex put in.

"The demon Raum also manifests in the form of a crow," Bobby said.

"Which means, that may not be Bishop." All eyes turned to the large, dirty gray and black bird. Alex reached for her weapon. The bird gave a croaky '_krraa_', hopped forward, spread it's wings and took off. Alex pulled her gun, but couldn't get a clean shot. Too many buildings rose up around them.

"It's getting away," Elliot growled, but there was nothing they could do but watch it wing silently into the pre-dawn sky. The crow suddenly folded it's wings and dove, falling like a rock as it dropped below the edge of the roof. A harsh '_krraak_' echoed from the nearest buildings and two dark shapes beat back up into the air, one right on the tail of the other.

"There's two of them," Deakins said. "The hooded one is chasing ... what is that, a raven?" The new bird was all black and slightly larger than the hooded crow.

"Most people see a - a black feather and think raven," Bobby said, his eyes tracking the two birds through the pewter gray sky. "It's a crow. Europe. Carrion crow. Raum." As the pieces clicked into place, Alex looked to the gray and black hoodie.

"It _is_ Bishop." The carrion crow cawed again as the hoodie, Bishop, made a turn a little tighter than expected and pecked a beakful of feathers out of the middle of its back. Raum flipped over in mid-air and lashed out at Bishop with his claws. They locked feet and began to spiral toward the ground. The two crows crashed into the rooftop, rolling about in a ball of kicking claws, stabbing beaks and beating wings. Feathers flew in every direction, their raspy voices filling the night as they screamed and fought.

"Elliot," Munch said, "throw your jacket over them. Don't let Raum get away." Elliot ran forward, but the black crow pulled free of Bishop's grasp and flapped heavily into the sky, disappearing between two large buildings. "Damnit!" Alex pushed through the crowd and hurried to the Bishop crow's side. She lay on her back, her wings lying limp at her sides, chest heaving and gray breast feathers dark with blood. Her sharp, black eyes glittered as Alex knelt in the gravel.

"Is there anything we can do?" Olivia asked, coming up behind Elliot. "Can you fix her, John?"

"I'm not a vet," he said, a frown creasing his face, "but I think so." Elliot reached down to pick her up, but she flipped over, one wing still dragging, and pecked at his hand.

"Easy Bishop, I'm only trying to help," Elliot said. She cocked her head to one side, regarding each of them in turn, then took a small hop toward Olivia. "I think she wants you, Liv." Olivia started to squat down, but froze as the crow disappeared and was replaced by a very naked, bloody young woman. Bishop staggered and fell into Olivia's startled arms. Quickly, Elliot threw his jacket over her. Olivia tried to get a better grip, but Bishop's dead weight began to slip through her arms. She frowned at Munch.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked, struggling to keep the young woman off the rough surface of the roof. Alex knew from experience that there was nothing more difficult to carry than an unresponsive adult human, unless you did it one of two ways, in your arms or over your shoulder. Olivia probably could have done either, given proper warning, but to have a body just fall into your hands, no way. Alex started to step forward and lend a hand, but Bobby slipped past her first. Scooping Bishop up in his arms, he cradled her to his chest like a child. It wasn't hard for Alex to imagine herself in Bishop's place, safe against that broad chest, his heart beating against her cheek, and she felt a swift pang of jealousy. It only took a moment to remember _why_ Bishop was in that position, and that chased most the jealousy away. Most of it.

"So, can you fix her, Mr. Wizard?" Logan asked, stepping up and lifting a lock of matted hair out of the blood on Bishop's face. Alex raised an eyebrow, but kept her mouth shut. Munch scanned the visible injuries, then reached up and took hold of Elliot's jacket.

"Sorry, but I need to see what I'm dealing with," he said to no one in particular. He removed the covering, revealing small puncture wounds and long, angry scratches, all seeping blood. "Looks superficial, except for the arm, maybe. Wasn't she favoring one wing?"

"I tore something in the right shoulder," Bishop said, her voice still rough, croaky, like a crow's. She rolled her head away from Bobby's chest and slowly opened her eyes. Logan drew back. Her eyes were that sharp, glittery black of a bird. She glanced at Elliot. "You didn't need to ruin your jacket, Detective Stabler," she said. "I don't mind being naked."

"Of course you don't," Elliot said, trying to keep his wandering eyes on her face. Logan wasn't even trying.

"I've danced naked in the moonlight since I was old enough to walk; modesty is more of a social convention than a personal choice."

"You dance on the Sabbats?" Munch asked. She cocked her head to one side.

"Don't you?"

"So you _are_ a witch," Alex said, frowning as those black, bird-like eyes turned on her.

"I already told you, not even close." Not in a mood to play games, Alex turned to Munch.

"Do you think you could get on with this?" she said, an edge of irritation in her voice. "I'm sure Bobby is getting tired of holding her." _She_ certainly was tired of him holding her. Bobby just shrugged.

"It's not like she's ... heavy," he said. Alex shot him a dark look. He raised his eyebrows. Okay, maybe she was being jealous and snarky, but he was holding a naked young woman in his arms, for crying out loud! She had a bit of a reason, even if it was just Bishop.

"I'm not sure I _can_ do anything," Munch said. "Whatever she is, Raum's magick had no effect on her; mine may not either."

"I think you're overlooking one minor detail," Bishop said, a hint of a smirk on her lips. "I didn't _want_ to be set on fire."

"Well, if you're that powerful, why don't you heal yourself?" Alex asked, her tone drawing curious looks from Dr. Huang and Deakins. Let 'em look, she decided, she was exhausted, dirty, bruised, burned and nearly gagging on the taste of spent adrenaline. She'd earned the right to be a little pissy.

"Healing isn't part of what I am," Bishop said, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back on Bobby's arm. "I'm an _Inin de an Morrigu_." Alex glanced at Munch, but he just shrugged.

"What is that?"

"It's Irish Gaelic," Bobby said. "It means, Daughter of the Morrigan."

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Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	32. Chapter 32

Author's note - OMG, sorry this is late, my sister got a new puppy this week and we've all been busy with him. He's a six-week old schipperke named Dion. He looks like a tiny little bear and has an attitude to match. He's so cute! Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews, I hope I have time for replies this week. Hope you enjoy!

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"What's a morrigan?" Logan asked, breaking the silence.

"In Celtic mythology, the Morrigan is a goddess of battle, strife and fertility," Munch said.

"Her name means either "Great Queen" or - or "Phantom Queen" and either is ... more than appropriate." Bobby said.

"She can appear as a hooded crow," Deakins chimed in, grinning, "a single goddess, or a trio of goddesses; Morrigan, Badb, and Nemain."

"She's also the Washer at the Ford," Alex added, suddenly remembering the high school Mythology class she'd tried to sleep through, "an old crone who kneels at the riverbank and washes the clothes and arms of the men about to die in battle."

"Do you geeks have a club, or something?" Logan asked, frowning at them. "Is this the kind of crap they teach at those seminars I never go to? And what does any of this have to do with her?" He jabbed a finger at Bishop.

"According to my great-grandmother," Bishop said, not bothering to open her eyes, "we are descended from the only child of the Great Queen. As the legend goes, after a great battle, the Tuatha de Danann - the Fair Folk, were driven into the Hollow Hills by the Milesians, never to return." As she spoke, her voice took on a slight Irish brogue, sounding less like Bishop and more like an old woman. "The Morrigan, angry at their defeat, in the guise of a young woman, lay with King Milesius and conceived a child.

"When the child was born, a daughter, she appeared to a young farmer and his wife and bade them raise the child as their own. Then she disappeared from this world. The child, named Eriu, though by no means a goddess, could take the form of a crow and understand the tongues of birds. She could call up no magick of her own, but neither could magick be worked against her. She could sense impending war and death in battle, and sometimes, if she wished it, her touch could doom a warrior. She was very much her mother's daughter, just as I am very much her one hundred and twenty times great-granddaughter."

"That's a nice story," Elliot said after a moment, "but you can't really believe all that mythology crap." Bishop raised her head and looked at him, her eyes back to their normal green-gray color.

"Every woman in my family has the same powers I do. Some believe, some don't, but they all have them, so why waste time and energy denying facts. Denying what I am won't make it go away. I am a Daughter of the Morrigan, regardless of my origins." She glanced up at Bobby. "You can put me down now, Detective Goren. I'm quite all right, just tired." He set her carefully on her feet, one hand lingering at the small of her back until it was clear that she wasn't going to fall over. What a perfect gentleman - Alex would have dumped her on her ass. Bishop turned to Munch. "So, do you just talk big, or can you really do something about this screaming ache in my shoulder?" His eyes jumped up to her face and his neck went a shade darker in the dim light.

"Right, yes, your shoulder." He placed his hands on either side of her shoulder, bowing his head as he muttered his spell or incantation or whatever. In a moment he pulled back and Bishop rotated her arm experimentally.

"Not bad," she said. "A little stiff, but time will take care of that. How about the rest of this?" All eyes traveled the length of her battered body, and Alex had the feeling that several of the men were suddenly lamenting the fact that they weren't warlocks as well. While Munch patched up Bishop, Alex pulled Bobby aside.

"Did you have any idea about her?" she asked. He shook his head.

"We never ... talked, really."

"The two of you worked side by side the entire time I was gone and you never even suspected there was something wrong with her?" Alex found that hard to believe. If your socks didn't match, Robert Goren could sense it.

"Everything was wrong with her, Eames. She wasn't you. I was too busy with - with cases and trying to pretend that nothing had changed, trying to make her ... you, I didn't really notice _her_." He frowned. "That wasn't fair, really." He turned suddenly, stepping back into the crowd of onlookers. She followed, curious to see what he was up to. She had a good idea, but with a man who half the time seemed to possess all the social graces of an orangutan, surprises were the norm.

"Every Sabbat?" Munch was saying as his hands moved methodically over Bishop's body. "Even Yule?"

"Of course. Don't you?"

"I have poor enough self esteem without dancing naked in the snow in the middle of winter, thank you," he said with a grimace. "Though by all means, let me know where you and your young, nubile friends are going to be and I'll be more than happy to watch."

"So how _do_ you celebrate Yule?" Bishop asked. Munch muttered something about hanging a wreath and then stepped back.

"Okay, good as new." She took a moment to stretch her shoulders and back, running her hands over her body as if checking the craftsmanship. Alex could feel every man up there holding his breath.

"You can put you clothes on now," Alex said coldly. Bishop regarded her a moment with those wintery green-gray eyes, then headed across the roof toward her pile of clothes. "And you two," she said, turning toward Deakins and Carver. Their heads snapped around. "You're married."

"But not dead, Detective," Carver said. Alex sighed and rolled her eyes.

"At least we're not helping her into her underwear," Deakins pointed out with a barely contained laugh. Alex glanced, not at Bishop, but to where Bobby had been standing. He wasn't there anymore. Now, most people had a little voice that warned them not to look at a crime scene. It was usually ignored, but just about everyone had one. Alex's little voice had given up a long time ago. Glancing over at Bishop, her first instinct was to open fire. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but Bobby was speaking animatedly about something, Bishop's bra swinging from his fingers as he gesculated with every other word.

Knowing full well that her boss, at least, was watching her like a hawk, she forced a smile and shook her head.

"The big ape," she said. "He has no clue when it comes to personal boundaries. Last week I caught him going through my gym bag because he thought he could smell papaya."

"You gotta love the guy, though," Deakins said with a crooked smile. You sure do, Alex agreed silently. She turned as someone touched her shoulder.

"You want me to take care of those burns?" Munch asked. His face had an ashen pallor and was slick with a cold sweat.

"No, I'm fine," she answered, reaching out to take his arm as he swayed slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Just tired," he replied with a weak chuckle. "Don't worry about me, I'm just out of practice. Haven't done this much magick since Samhain. That's Halloween, to you laymen." He took a shaky breath as lines of sorrow etched deep into his face. "Kia always organized a costume ball for women and children who were victims of abuse."

"So what, you'd tell ghost stories and bob for apples?" Fin asked, stepping up next to his partner. He gave Alex a covert, worried glance.

"Among other things," Munch said, "There'd be good, hot food for those that hadn't eaten in a while, and face painting for kids without costumes. Then, when the night was just about over, we'd cast a protection charm on the lot of them, hop on our broomsticks and fly away."

"Do you wear those pointy hats and striped socks, too?" Fin asked.

"Always with the sarcasm," Munch said to her, raising his shoulders. "He thinks I'm joking."

"You mean, you really _can_ fly on brooms?" Alex asked. He gave her a tired smile. He was still pale, but the sickly gray color had left.

"Sure, and if you play your cards right, I might take you for a spin sometime."

"Thanks," Alex said with a shudder, "but I hate flying."

"Flyin' don't bother me," Fin said, shooting his partner an eager look.

"Good for you," Munch replied, winking at Alex as he turned away.

"You know, I hope somebody drops a house on your ass," Fin called after him. He shook his head, then gave Alex a crooked grin. "He'll take me, you wait and see."

* * *

They dared not wait too long to proceed with the ritual. Dawn was coming, and there was no telling what Raum might try next. Once Munch had rested a bit and Bishop was properly attired once more, their warlock gathered them together for one last pep-talk.

"Raum underestimated us," he said, sounding pleased with himself. "He's probably off somewhere nursing his wounds and wondering what other tricks we might have up our sleeves. Just in case he's not, and he does return, it is imperative that once the circle is joined, no one must break it under any circumstances. As long as the circle is unbroken, his magick can do us no harm."

"Then why bother us at all?" Edward asked. "I mean, he has to know it won't do any good."

"Even experienced witches have been known to break a circle," Munch informed them. "If he can scare someone, make one of us panic, the spell will collapse." He stopped talking, but Alex could feel an 'and' coming on. "And if that happens, I'm not sure any of us would survive." The rooftop burst into loud, angry chatter.

"You could of told us that earlier." Novak's voice rose above the hubbub.

"He said it was dangerous," Elliot said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He never said we might all die," Novak shot back. She was scared, her eyes wide, wild.

"I'd probably survive," Bishop put in, not helping the situation at all. The ruckus rose up again, everyone talking at once, trying to be heard. Alex stuck the tips of her fingers between her lips and silenced them with a sharp whistle.

"All right then," she said in her clipped, no nonsense tone of voice, "I think we're all overlooking one important fact. This only becomes dangerous if the circle is broken. The solution: hold each other's hands like your lives depend on it." Glances were passed around like bad hors d'voures. She couldn't exactly blame them. The thought of putting her life in Novak's hands didn't exactly leave her with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Half these people had only just met, but there wasn't time to build a fire and sing_ Kumbayah_ while they got to know each other. The sky to the east was already beginning to silver with the coming dawn. "I don't know about the rest of you," she said softly, "but I won't let go."

"Neither will I." Of all the people that could have backed her up, Bishop would have been her last guess. The willowy detective was standing next to Bobby, her hand resting on his arm and Alex felt that cold knot slink back into the pit of her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Bobby, who was watching her with twitching lips and laughing eyes. _Oh yes, her hanging all over you is so amusing_, she wanted to snap. _Almost as entertaining as watching you play with her underwear_.

_Green is not your color_, he'd reply with a smile, and he'd be right. Jealousy did not become her. And what the hell did she have to be jealous of? This was _Bishop_, for crying out loud. He'd sooner hook up with Elliot.

"Me neither," Fin said from beside her, jarring her from her thoughts.

"And neither will I," Edward said. Almost as one, the rest vowed the same. Munch cleared his throat.

"Why can't we feel this kind of camaraderie every day? Why does something bad always have to happen first?" He sighed and shook his head. "Detective Goren, if you would enter the circle, please. Careful not to disturb the salt." Bobby moved to the center, his fingers playing over the stem of the hydrangea as he glanced from face to face, his head cocked slightly to one side. "Okay, Casey, you're first." He took the wide-eyed red-head by the elbow and escorted her to the northern point of the circle. Alex tried to pay attention to what Munch was telling her, but she found her attention drawn again and again to Bobby. For such a big bear of a man, he looked so fragile standing there in a circle of salt, a faded flower clutched in his nervous fingers.

He raised his head and their eyes met. Yes, he was nervous, but he wasn't afraid. His face, for once, was an open book. He knew she wouldn't let him down. She looked away, wishing she was as sure. "Alex, you're up." Bishop had been placed in the east, and Munch was waiting for her in the south. Alex took her position, across from Novak, with Bobby directly between them, the wand held tight in her right hand. Her stomach fluttered as Olivia stepped up to the west point. _Here we go._

"Okay, ladies, nice and easy, remember what I told you."

"With this Wand/Chalice/Pentacle/Athame I summon the spirit of the South/West/North/East," Alex and the others said in unison, their voices rising and falling as one, diverging on their own separate paths, and then joining together again. "Spirit, I call upon the power of Fire/Water/Earth/Air; let your energy pour through me and aid me in this task." As Munch as instructed, Alex held her wand at arm's length, catching movement out of the corner of her eye as Olivia did the same. "An it harm none, do as you will." The words echoed in the suddenly silent night. As the echoes died away, there came a muted crackle, a rumble, a rush, a roar, and Alex jumped, almost dropping her wand as the tip of the wood burst into flames. Eyes wide, she glanced over at Olivia, whose mouth was hanging slack as water poured over the lip of the chalice. Novak was shaking as rich, black soil fell from between her fingers onto the roof. Bishop stood calmly as her hair danced around her face in an unseen wind storm.

"Well done," Munch said quietly, "we have their attention. You can set them down now, carefully, on the outside of the circle." Alex laid the wand on the graveled roof, half expecting it to go out, but the flames danced higher, racing down the entire length of the wood. Instead of blackening, the polished white surface gleamed brighter. She tried to swallow and found her mouth dry and tasting of ash. She shivered. "Gentlemen, take your positions."

Logan stepped up to her right, Carver to her left. Apparently, Logan needed someone even calmer than the stoic ADA. She smiled as Dr. Huang took that position of honor. They looked like a clock, Alex realized suddenly. Novak was at twelve o'clock, Munch at one, Fin at two, then Bishop, Edward, Logan, herself at six, then Carver, Deakins, Olivia, Elliot and Dr. Huang, with Bobby right in the middle. Once everyone was in place, Munch had them take their plants in their right hands and extend that hand palm up, toward the person on their right.

With Munch's guidance, Novak took his hand, the edelweiss clasped between their palms. The second they touched, Alex could feel a change in the air, a heaviness, like an electrical storm on the rise.

"An I stand firm, let no power harm that inside this circle," Novak said, her voice shaking, "but an the circle break, let all be undone." Munch took Fin's hand and the hairs on the back of Alex's neck stood on end. He repeated the sentence and Alex tensed as Fin reached for Bishop. It was like standing under the heavy lines that ran beside the road near her cousin's farm in Nebraska, the air buzzing with electricity. Except this wasn't electricity, it was magick. The others were glancing about, most with wild, jumpy eyes.

"It's all right," Munch assured them. "This is perfectly normal." No one looked convinced, but they held their ground as Bishop joined hands with Edward, and Edward with Logan.

"Careful," Alex whispered as Logan took her hand. She'd tried to offer only the bare stem of the holly branch, but the wicked leaves scratched him anyway, drawing a thin line of blood. He gave her a crooked smile as he said his piece, and then it was her turn. She touched Carver and forced herself to draw slow, steady breaths as the power crawled all over her skin. "An I stand firm," she said, her voice muted, hollow, like she was talking into a bucket, "let no power harm that inside this circle, but an the circle break, let all be undone." She closed her eyes, telling herself over and over again to be calm, to stay still, to not freak out. The power pressed upon her, like she'd been buried in sand, but sand that crawled and dug under your skin, itching against the inside of your skull. She was barely aware of the others, listening only for Dr. Huang's voice, as he was the last.

"All right," she heard Munch say, his voice strained, "on three, step forward, well into the circle. One. Two. Three." It was like stepping through a sheet of icy water. Alex gasped as the magick lifted, leaving her shaking on the other side. The others weren't much better, all of them staring around in shock and disbelief at the shimmering curtain of light surrounding them. It reminded her of the force-fields on Star Trek, only a deep, dark purple, almost black, with lighter threads of blue racing across the surface. "Make sure you stay clear of that," Munch said, nodding at the light. "Any living that tries to pass in or out now gets turned to ash." Several people shuffled forward another few inches.

"What now?" Alex asked, taking slow breaths to try and calm her racing heart. She still felt slightly light-headed.

"Time to ask for a little divine intervention," Munch said. "Whatever deity you believe in, visualize yourself receiving their blessing, their energy. Or if you can't do that, picture the energy coming from the earth, or the stars. However you want to do it, imagine yourself filling with power, like a white light, saturating every particle of your being." Alex hadn't been one of the 'faithful' for a long time. It was hard to maintain a belief in the benevolent Almighty when one saw the things she did everyday. She had never consciously stopped believing, and when things got rough she still prayed, but she rarely felt that connection with God that she used to have as a child. She used to miss it, but lately, she'd forgotten to even do that anymore.

Closing her eyes, she turned her face to the sky, trying to picture a brilliant beam of white light shooting down from the sky into her. _Wow, isn't this just like a kid,_ she thought to herself,_ ignoring You until I need something, and then expecting You to just hand it over._

_That's what parents do,_ came the amused reply. The voice almost sounded like her own, but with a bit of Bobby thrown in there - a strange combination for the voice of her subconscious mind.

_Yeah, well, it doesn't make it right,_ Alex argued. There wasn't anything better to do while she visualized the light filling her from her feet up to the top of her head.

_What does right or wrong have to with love?_ the voice asked. _Love just is._

_Somebody better slap that on a greeting card quick,_ Alex thought, her lips quirking in a cynical smile. _That kind of prefect love doesn't exist._

_Gives you something to aspire to, though._ There was that amused tone again. Alex couldn't see anything funny about the situation. _Now, open your eyes, Alex, and see what perfect Love and perfect Trust has made of you and your friends._ Alex opened her eyes, her entire being settling into a quiet stillness as she looked from one face to another.

When her nephew had been born, and she lay there in the hospital bed, aching and exhausted, with her sister by her side, both of them with tears running down their cheeks, and then the nurse placed that tiny little person on her chest and she looked down at the life she had helped bring into the world, in that moment, nothing else in the whole of human existence mattered the way he did. Looking into his face, it was like seeing color for the first time, like holding all that was divine and magical in her arms. That was what it was like as she looked at her friends, seeing in their faces the same divinity, the same magic that she saw every time she looked at her nephew. They glowed.

She glanced at Bobby, standing alone in the center, staring at her as if he'd never truly seen her before. Around the circle, the others were looking around, making small sounds of wonder and awe. "Just as divinity is within us all, so shall Their power be ours to call," Munch said quietly. The light began to fade, but Alex could feel it drawing deep into herself, concentrating at her core. She glanced over at Munch, their eyes met, and he nodded once. "Okay, Alex, show time."

* * *

PS - I know witches don't ride brooms, sorry for continuing this stereotype, but the scene was just so much fun, I had to go with it.

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.


	33. Chapter 33

Author's Note - Thanks for the reviews, I'm glad you're (still) enjoying this. I know I am. I'm glad I'm keeping everyone in character, that's probably my biggest fear, that they won't act like themselves.

Rach - We name the puppy after football player Dion Sanders.

sw33tangelgrl - Hope you have fun, too. I'm taking LOTS of bug spray. The mosquitos just eat me alive.

* * *

"This part can be a little tricky," Munch said. "The curse has to be driven out. That's why you have to lead, Alex; besides Goren, you know it best."

"Lucky me," she muttered under her breath.

"There's no long, drawn-out incantations or anything, just tell it to get out. Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll be," she replied. On her left, Carver squeezed her hand, the first real show of support she'd gotten from him. She glanced over at him, a nervous smile on her face, but it faded quickly. His eyes darted from her face to where Munch was standing, back and forth, and he gave his head a slight nod in that direction. Alex frowned, no idea what he was getting at.

"_Behind him_," Carver whispered, his lips barely parted. Alex looked again and felt the color drain from her face. Standing outside the circle was a man. She could only make out the shape at first - a slight figure, probably only a few inches taller than herself, but with shoulders too broad for an average woman, hips too straight and narrow; this person had no curves. His eyes were huge, luminescent, flickering - glasses, she chastised herself, it was just the light from the circle reflected in the lenses of his glasses.

"What is it, Alex?" Munch asked.

"Were we expecting company?" she asked, applying all her undercover skills to keep the apprehension out of her voice.

"No, why?"

"There's a man standing right behind you." Munch turned slowly, just his head and shoulders.

"Can I help you?" The stranger laughed, a silky, sibilant chuckle.

"Singing telegram for Detective Eames," he said, the light playing over straight, white teeth as he smiled.

"Go away, Raum," Alex said, surprising even herself with the amount of hate and venom in her voice. "You can't do anything to us."

"Is that what he told you?" Raum asked, his face nearly split in two by that broad grin. "Oh, Detective Munch, you should know better. Nothing bleeds a spell faster than a lie. That's why I always tell the truth."

"Don't listen to him," Munch said. "He's just trying to stall until the sun comes up."

"Hey, that would have been a good plan," Raum said, now turning and walking around the edge of their circle. Now Alex could see that he had his hands behind his back. "It would almost be worth the wait to see Detective Goren's soul ripped from his body." Horror flashed across her face for just a second before she got herself under control, but Raum saw it. He moved around the circle until he was standing just off her right shoulder. He was a white male, early to mid forties, dark brown hair, short on the sides but longer on top, slightly curly. She couldn't tell the color of his eyes, hidden behind the reflecting pools of his glasses. "You don't like the thought of that, do you, detective?"

"Get away from her," Bobby snarled, taking a step toward them.

"Stop right there," Raum said, taking his hands out from behind his back. He was holding a length of rusty, one inch metal pipe.

"That's it?" Bobby asked with a snort. "A pipe? Like a - a - a common street hood? Where's your bag of magic tricks?"

"You see, Detective Goren, that is exactly why you're in this position - you have no people skills. If you hadn't made such an enemy of that poor girl, Nicole, I wouldn't be here, and neither would you. You would be home, alone, in your empty apartment, again, thinking about our lovely Detective Eames, again, wondering what she might be doing, and with whom - "

"Shut up," Alex snapped. She just wanted to turn around and punch him in the mouth. She must have given some outward sign, because Logan squeezed her hand, the holly leaves digging into her flesh. Holly. Right. Balance. She took a deep breath. She was letting him get to her. Turning to Munch, she nodded decisively. "Let's get this done."

"Just one word of advice before we begin," Munch said, glancing over Elliot and Olivia's heads, "sometimes, if you have the shot, you just have to take it." Alex frowned. Bobby wasn't armed, and he was the only one with a free hand. "Anyway, this part is pretty much open-ended, Alex, just tell the spell what you want it to do. Oh, and you might want to get back into position, Goren."

"What to do, what to do," Raum said in a sing-song voice, moving clockwise around the circle, toward Olivia. He stopped and came back to Alex, standing at her left shoulder this time. "I do so want to watch you fumble through this 'magick stuff', but I made Detective Goren a promise."

"Don't," Bobby said, his body still, but she could practically see the energy building inside him.

"So you do remember what I said. Did you tell your lovely partner? No? Shall I?" He smiled again. "I told him that I would kill you. I promised him that he would watch. I never lie and I always keep my promises, Detective Eames, so I'm afraid it doesn't look good for you."

"You can't do anything to us," Olivia said, but she didn't sound so sure. "John said -"

"Yes, what did 'John' say?" Raum said, walking toward her. "His exact words - does anyone remember?"

"He said, 'As long as the circle is unbroken, his magick can do us no harm'." All eyes turned to Bishop, standing between Edward and Fin.

"Exactly," Raum said. He held out one hand and a splintering of silver lightning leaped against the wall of their circle, crackling and hissing, and finally dying. "The 'bag of tricks' is pretty useless, but this -" He hefted the pipe. "- well, this is very handy." He drew his arm back and hit Olivia across the shoulders with the the pipe. She cried out, staggering forward under the weight of the blow, and a gasp rose up from half a dozen throats.

"You son of a bitch, I'm gonna kill you," Elliot snarled, lunging toward Raum. It was only Olivia and Dr. Huang holding on for dear life that kept them all from being killed.

"Elliot, knock it off!" Olivia shouted, jerking hard on his arm. She was pale, a tightness around her eyes betraying the pain, but she pulled him back, though an almost unintelligible stream of the most horrible explicatives continued to pour from his mouth. It was the kind of stuff you didn't even hear on cable. Raum laughed and twirled his pipe. Alex swallowed hard as he started back around toward her. She glanced at Bobby, who was watching Raum with undisguised hatred. It was a good thing for Raum that Bobby wasn't armed.

Bobby wasn't ... but she was. If she could get him to come close enough -

"Excuse me, Mr. Raum," she said as he came to a stop beside her. As polite as he'd been this whole time, she figured a little deference couldn't hurt. "Since it looks like you're going to win this one, I don't suppose you'd allow me one last request, as you're going to kill me in a minute." He didn't speak, but tilted his head to one side, which she took as a sign to continue. "Considering how ... close you have brought Detective Goren and myself, it wouldn't be too unreasonable to grant us a last kiss, would it?" Raum leaned closer, his face just inches beyond the circle.

"And give him a chance to grab your weapon? I think not, Detective Eames, but full marks for trying." He stepped back and adjusted his grip on the pipe, like a home run king about to send one over the fence. Alex glanced at Carver, then Logan.

"Don't let go, guys," she said, trying not to picture her limp and bloody body hanging between them. Bobby was shifting from one foot to the other, his big hands opening and closing, his eyes darting from her face to Raum, and back again. She shook her head. "Don't," she whispered, "you'll die."

"I - I can't just ... _stand_ here," he ground out between his teeth.

"Yes you can, Goren," Munch said suddenly, "you can bow your head and pray. We all can."

"Pray?" Raum said, his voice mocking. "Pray to whom?"

"To whomever might be watching over us," Munch replied, bowing his head. "C'mon you guys, show some respect," he said. "Especially you, Alex." She bowed her head, frowning. What was going on? For some reason, she even doubted divine intervention could save her from getting beat to death. Alex jerked away as something whistled past her head, scoring a line of fire down her face from temple to jaw, passing just below her ear. She fell to her knees, Carver and Logan's hands held tight in her own.

"What is this?" Raum asked, sounding amused. "A dart?" Alex stayed down, but glanced back. Raum delicately plucked the short tranquilizer dart out of his wrist. "I was expecting some futile, desperate attempt to save yourselves, but this is a surprise. I had been hoping for some begging, pleading, weeping, groveling - you are the NYPD after all." He glanced around at the blank faces of the surrounding buildings. The air was split by another whistle and a second dart appeared at his throat, just below his chin on the left side. Grimacing, Raum tore it out of his neck and moved back, standing in the shadow of the taller Deakins. "Your friend has impressive aim," he said, a touch of anger in his voice. He rubbed his throat. "That really stings, Detective Munch, but it will not save you. The potions of science have no effect on me - I am more magick than mortal." But even as he spoke, he swayed like a reed in the wind and staggered sideways.

"Exactly," Munch said, straightening up. "That's why the first dart was filled with an infusion of knotweed and eyebright." Raum's face went slack and he made an unintelligible sound in his throat. "The second was a 'potion of science', and quite a powerful one, apparently. Good night." Raum made one last gurgling sound and collapsed. He didn't move again.

"Is he dead?" Elliot asked, sounding hopeful.

"Just out cold," Munch said. He turned his face to the buildings behind Novak. "Sure took you long enough," he muttered.

"What's a - a incursion of nighteye and boughtweed?" Novak asked, making Munch and Bishop laugh.

"It's _infusion_," Munch corrected, "which is what you get when you soak herbs in hot water, like tea, only I wouldn't recommend drinking this one. _Knotweed_ and _eyebright_ bind psychic and magickal powers, making him as susceptible to tranquilizers as anyone. He'll be out for a few hours, at least."

"Good," Alex said, climbing back to her feet. "Now, let's get this over with - my fingers are just about numb." Alex stared at Bobby, trying to ignore the steadily lightening sky behind Bishop. She cleared her throat.

"Hear me, incubus," she said, focusing her mind on the power, the feeling of that _thing_ on her skin, in her body, the way it touched her, knew her. "You've had your fun, now it's time to leave." She could almost see it, hunkered down inside her partner, quiet, sated, sleepy, but listening. Not interested, but listening. "You're not wanted; all you've done is cause trouble and hurt people. Your touch is cold - it incites lust, but does nothing to warm the soul. You were sent here in the spirit of vengeance and anger, but with our friendship and love we shall cast you out." The curse bristled like a wet cat. Alex glanced at Munch, who nodded.

"Good job, Alex," he said. "Okay everybody - "

"This is how you show your gratitude?" Bobby hissed suddenly. He dropped the hydrangea and squatted in the center of the circle, rocking slightly from side to side, bracing himself on his fingertips and the balls of his feet, like an animal. Alex blinked, sure it was a trick of the light, because his eyes could not possible be glowing _green_. But they were.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	34. Chapter 34

Author's note - Thanks for the reviews. Have I mentioned how much I appreciate them? I do. I would have quit writing this long ago if it hadn't been for you. I have a tendency to jump from one project to another. It's writer's ADD, I guess, LOL. Anyway, thanks for giving me a reason to keep going, and I hope you enjoy.

Palindrome - While researching Wicca and witchcraft, I noticed that the majority of sites spelled magick with a K. Several even explained that they used this spelling to differentiate between real magick (what they do) and stage magic (card tricks and disappearing tigers and such). I had the chapter done, so I'm posting early just for you. Have fun camping.

inugrissom - Thanks for the review. In my research, I noticed that the majority of sites spelled magick with a K. Several even explained that they used this spelling to differentiate between real magick (what they do) and stage magic (card tricks and disappearing tigers and such). So thanks for pointing that out, but I didn't get it wrong.

Eliza - Thanks. I'm working on it. I need you guys, too!

Angelfirenze - You bet I am(_evil grin_).I can't make any promises, lol.

* * *

He looked at her, this _thing_ in Bobby's body, his head tilted to one side. "I feasted on your pleasure - you cannot tell me that you did not enjoy what I did to you. You cannot tell me that you would have sought the pleasure of this body on your own. You owe much to me, and _this_ is how you repay?" 

Alex swallowed hard. The incubus hissed again, using Bobby's body to slink toward her on all fours.

"What you did to me," Alex said, fighting the urge to back away as it drew closer, "was criminal. It was debasing, humiliating, perverse and unwelcome. My body's physical reaction was beyond my control - you should know that; you were the one controlling me." The incubus hesitated, shifting its weight from side to side, swaying like a cobra.

"Yet you returned, you sought me out a second time, so eager you did not even wait for my hunger to rise."

"Ha!" Alex laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. I came back so quickly to _avoid_ you, to shut you down before you had the chance to cause trouble. The thought of touching you again, of letting you touch me, makes me sick." She hoped to God that Bobby wasn't in there listening, hearing her say those things to him. "I owe you nothing, except a swift kick in the ass if you don't get out of my partner right now." It slunk backward, green glowing eyes darting around the circle until they fell on Olivia.

"I know you," it hissed, raising Bobby's nose into the air and scenting the wind like a wolf. "Our time was brief, interrupted." It shot a withering look at Alex, then turned back to Olivia. "Stop this, and I will make you scream with pleasure and leave you weak and aching in all the right places. Just ask her," it said with a sinful smile, nodding at Alex.

"Bobby did that, not you," Alex informed it, and everyone else. "I've faked better orgasms than the one you forced out of me."

"She is jealous that I would share myself with another," it said, starting toward Olivia. "Is that not reason enough to accept, to discover the pleasure she tries to keep for herself?"

"I wouldn't touch you if you were the last thing on Earth," Olivia said.

"In another form, perhaps? This body has its ... merits, but I could be persuaded to take another - one that would otherwise turn you away." Those green eyes flickered in Elliot's direction. Olivia stiffened, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"There are more important things than lust," she said. Alex saw her grip Elliot's hand more tightly. The incubus scuttled sideways, took one look at Elliot's scowling face and backed up again, then caught sight of Edward.

"You," it hissed, "you were a surprise." Edward's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried to swallow, his eyes widening as the incubus crept toward him. "How long has it been since you allowed yourself the pleasure of another? You are a starved man, ready to take whatever is offered. There is no shame in pleasure."

"Maybe, but there's no pride in it, either." Edward squared his shoulders and stared down the incubus, forcing those eerie green eyes to turn elsewhere. It eased toward Bishop, its lips curved into a twisted parody of Bobby's shy smile. Alex had to look away, bile rising in the back of her throat, but she couldn't keep her eyes averted for long.

"You have not had the ... pleasure of my acquaintance, but that is easily fixed." It scented the air again. "You smell of honey and cream: warm, sweet, sticky, rich and smooth. Let me taste you."

"You are a formless, parasitic construct of vengeful, amateurish magick," Bishop said. "You talk big, but no one else has been swayed by your pitiful seduction. Why would I?"

"They are fools," the incubus hissed, "blinded by shame and disgust, but you -" It crept closer. "- you know no shame, you are more like me than them, a creation of vengeance, of magick. Let me touch you and you will see, my talk is not all that is big." Bishop tilted her chin up slightly, looking down her narrow nose at it.

"One kiss," she said, drawing a startled gasp from several members of the circle, Alex included. "No tricks and you keep your hands to yourself."

"I need no tricks," the incubus replied, rising to Bobby's full height and stepping toward her, "nor hands, to pleasure you. One kiss, and you will beg for my touch."

"Don't you dare," Alex growled between her teeth, her narrowed eyes fixed, not on the incubus, but on Bishop. "I don't know what your game is, but I won't let you take advantage of him."

"Oh, shut _up_, Alex," Bishop said, rolling her eyes. "I think I've been a pretty good sport about all this. I haven't asked for anything, but I'm asking for this. One kiss is not too much to expect. Besides, what are you going to do about it, kill us all out of jealousy?"

"I'm not jealous," Alex replied, choosing her tone carefully, "I'm protective." Bishop smirked at her.

"Well, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt him."

"But what are you going to do to us?" Olivia asked quietly. "If you forget yourself, if you let go - "

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," Bishop replied. Alex clenched her teeth as Bishop turned her face up to receive the incubus's kiss. What the hell was she trying to prove, the stupid little bitch? She was going to get them all killed. The incubus's lips - Bobby's lips - latched onto hers. Bishop closed her eyes and kissed back, their mouths working, trying to devour each other - Alex thought she was going to be sick.

On either side of Bishop, Fin and Edward made strangled, gasping sounds, their faces flushed, eyes wide but unseeing.

"No," Edward moaned, his voice barely a whisper, "please." Fin cried out, a deep, almost panicked sound. Alex glanced at Munch, but he was watching his partner, a questioning frown on his brow. His eyebrows shot up as some revelation came to him, but before he could share it, he too gasped and faded from reality. Alex's stomach clenched as Logan did the same, his hand tightening on hers.

"Don't - panic," Munch gasped. "Don't - fight -" Logan groaned, a rumble in his chest, his hand shaking in hers. Whatever was happening, it was moving around the circle in both directions - and she was next, along with Novak. The same thought seemed to occur to the ADA, who stared across the circle at Alex with nothing short of terror in her eyes. For a second, Alex thought she was going to bolt, break the circle and render them into so much pixie dust, but she stood her ground, though a single tear cut its way down her cheek. Alex didn't blame her one bit.

Novak gasped, and then Alex felt the familiar brush of the incubus's power - warm, musky, heavy - sweeping through her. She found herself in a crush of bodies, naked flesh slick with sweat, hands touching, fingers searching, a world of moans and cries and lust. Logan and Edward were beneath her, the three of them lying in a tangle of limbs, their hands moving over her skin, worshipping her, leaving her breathless and light-headed. She tried to push them away and almost succeeded, which turned out to be worse than doing nothing. She ended up running her fingers through the line of dark hair gracing Logan's stomach, following it somewhere she really didn't want to go.

Her eyes darted around the room, trying to pick out something, anything familiar, anything to tie her back into reality, but the room was dark, lit by a lurid red glow that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. Where they were wasn't big, but neither did it seem to have walls, ceiling or floor. She could hardly tell which way was up, or if there even was an 'up'. On the other side of Logan, close enough to touch, lay Novak, with Fin spooned up behind her, the entire length of their bodies touching as his arms encircled her. Novak made a high, whimpering sound, her head thrown back and eyes closed as she arched her body against Munch's exploring fingers. Munch lay draped across the two of them, his other hand entwined in his partner's hair as he bit and sucked at Fin's neck.

Alex cried out as a wave of pleasure ripped through her body, drawing her attention back to the men beneath her. Edward had bent his head to her breast, drawing the soft flesh into his mouth, teasing her with his tongue.

Suddenly, the room flipped, inverted, something, and Alex found herself on her back, with Logan and Edward above her. Something warm and dark moved across her stomach. A hand, a black hand with a simple gold band on one finger. She glanced over at Carver, his dark eyes bright with fear and lust.

"Where - did you - come from?" she gasped.

"What's hap - happening?" he asked, trying to fight against his body and losing. He insinuated himself into Novak's arms, facing her, his hands sliding over her body. He was so dark and she so pale, like ebony and ivory, it was exotic, beautiful. Novak cried out again, but not with pleasure. Alex could feel it, too, the overwhelming haze of lust was fading, the fear rising up through her. She screamed when someone pressed against her back, arms snaking around her waist.

"This is some kind of shared hallucination," Dr. Huang said, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into her hair. "This can't really be happening." He sounded desperate for that to be true.

"It's not happening," Munch said, "it's not real. Just relax, don't fight it. The more you fight, the more power focuses on you. Stop resisting and - and it won't be as bad." Alex glanced over at him, now lying behind Fin, eyes closed and cheek resting against the younger man's shoulder. His hands still played over Fin's hips, reaching across him to stoke Novak, but much of the frantic groping had stopped. Alex swallowed the acidic taste creeping up the back of her throat and took a deep breath, resigned to let her hands wander where they would.

The desire eased, the need to touch slipping away, not gone, but she was certain could stop it if she just tried a little harder. Her hands slipped between her body and Edward's, bringing a strangled cry from him. She choked back a sob and did the one thing she swore she would never do, for any reason; she surrendered.

It was like the eye of a storm, eerily silent, still, with the raging desire roaring all around, but only the briefest touches dancing across her skin.

"He's right," she whispered, to no one in particular. "Give up and it stops. Almost." Like leaves settling, they went still, lying against, under and on top of each other, only their chests laboring for breath and the occasional soft caress of a hand breaking the calm.

"Why is this happening, John?" Novak asked, her voice shaking.

"Bishop did this," Alex said bitterly. Logan's hands continued to tease her flesh; he either didn't know the meaning of surrender, or he was the only one of them having a good time. From the look on his face, he was enjoying it less than she was.

"Yes, it was Bishop," Munch agreed. "She's a very smart girl, smarter than me. If I had figured out what she was doing sooner, I might have been able to prepare you all."

"And what did she do that was so smart?" Logan asked, his hands finally falling away from her. "Besides manage to avoid this little party."

"Yeah, where is she?" Alex asked.

"Magick cannot be worked against her, remember?" Munch said. "She knew what she was doing. The incubus failed to realize that, with us holding hands, it's power would be drawn through all of us. It grows weaker with every person affected. When the power reaches Liv and the circle is complete, it will be too weak to fight anymore." He took a shuddering breath and tried to move closer to Fin, except there was nowhere to go.

"Easy, old man," Fin said, glancing over his shoulder at Munch. "Even Edward wasn't this frisky." Alex shot a startled glance at Edward, who averted his eyes, his face darkening with shame.

"We were the only two in here at first," he said. "It was so ... strong, I -"

"I know, Edward," Alex said, resting her forehead against his, "believe me, I know." A single tear slipped down his cheek.

"I was so glad when you showed up, Eames, so relieved. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she told him, wishing she reach up and dry the tear from his face, but she didn't trust her body to do what she wanted. Biting back the angry growl rising in her throat, she glanced around. "Where are the others?" she demanded. "Elliot and - and Deakins should be here by now." She had forgotten that the Captain would be joining them.

"The incubus is weakening," Munch said. "It will take a while to effect those two, but Liv shouldn't take as long; it'll attack her from both sides."

"We don't have this kind of time to waste," Alex said. "The sun was starting to rise already."

"It's going to be close," Munch said, "but draining the incubus's power this way should be faster than wearing it down with spells." He suddenly buried his face in Fin's neck, his pale, thin hand slipping between Fin and Novak.

"Damn, John," Fin said, a deep, rosy flush creeping up his neck as his dark eyes darted around uncomfortably. "There somethin' you want to tell me?"

"I wouldn't read too much into this. Maybe if you weren't Bogarting Casey -"

"Excuse me?" Novak said, sounding affronted. Munch gave a caustic laugh.

"Look around, Casey, ass like yours is a hot commodity right now." Alex gasped as the power raked across her skin again, forcing her back against Huang.

"What's going on?" she asked as three pairs of hands ran across her fevered skin. "We weren't fighting."

"No," Munch said, the word drawn out in a low moan, "but _they_ are." Before Alex could ask who, the world inverted again, leaving Alex pressed between Munch, Fin, Edward, Carver and Elliot. She could see Novak wrapped around Carver, with Deakins and Huang clinging to her. They writhed against each other for a moment, then the weight lifted, leaving them breathless and shaking.

"What -the Hell -?" Elliot gasped, his arms sliding around Alex's hips and pulling her toward him as he fought against the power.

"Elliot," Alex said, as calmly as she could manage, "you have to relax. The more you fight, the worse it gets." His face was a mask of confusion as his eyes swept over the mass of naked flesh pressing against him. He wasn't listening. Disregarding what might happen, she grabbed a handful of Elliot's hair and turned him to face her. "Do you hear me? Just relax, okay?" There was a moment where she wasn't sure if she got through or not, then he nodded and swallowed hard. She let go, surprised, but very glad that her body had decided to obey.

"What is going on?" Elliot said, each word slow and deliberate. While Munch explained it, Alex allowed herself to relax against the bodies around her. It wouldn't be long now. Only Olivia was left, and then they would finish this, once and for all. She reached up to brush the hair out of her eyes, but Edward caught her hand in his own. Concerned, she turned toward him, only to have his other hand reach up and caress her cheek, his lips sliding across hers in a gentle, chaste kiss. She let him, but felt no compulsion to participate. The incubus was definitely weakening.

Actually, now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember ever being compelled to kiss. Or lick, suck, nuzzle, nibble or bite, for that matter. The first time she and Bobby had sated the curse, it was traumatic, insatiable, overwhelming, but they hadn't been forced to kiss. In the break room, when they finally did kiss, her part in that had been all her idea, no matter what she had told him later. She had the feeling that his was a similar story. So, if the curse couldn't make you kiss, what was Edward up to? He pulled back, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Sorry, Eames," he said quietly. "That was all my doing. I know you and Goren are ... well, it's pretty obvious how you two feel about each other, but I just ... if this isn't real, then it's the only time I'm going to get to do that."

"Edward, I -" She didn't know what to say. "- I think you can call me Alex." His lips quirked in a lopsided smile, but he kept his eyes down. She watched him, slowly, lazily musing in her head. So, Edward had a thing for her. She should have seen as much - the signs were all there, but she'd been a little distracted lately. If she hadn't been so worried about Bobby, she'd have seen the protectiveness, the jealousy, the self-sacrifice. Her face softened as she remembered his aversion toward magick - this must be Hell for him. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this," she said, finally making him look at her. "You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me."

"You got that right," he said with a soft chuckle, "but if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be _here_, either." He moved closer, but there was nothing untoward about it, even though they were both naked. His presence, his touch, was strangely comforting. She leaned her head against his shoulder and let him wrap his arms around her.

"Edward, I -"

"I know, you love Goren. I'm not going to try and change that - I know I can't, but if he ever hurts you, ever forgets that you are more precious than life, I will be there in a second, and you can tell him that." Alex tilted her head upward, catching a hard glint in his dark blue eyes.

"You and Bobby have been at odds since you transferred in," she said. "I remember you taking a swing at him in the lobby in the first week. What did he do to make you dislike him so?"

"That morning, or in general?" Edward responded, glancing down at her, then resting his cheek on her head. He wasn't as tall as Bobby, nor as big, but he still made her feel small, though not in any way that she resented. She _was_ small, and she could be small, and he would take care of her. Sometimes, that was a good feeling.

"Both. Start with that morning." He took a long breath and let it out slowly.

"Well, I was waiting for the elevator - might have reading the paper, I don't remember, when he sneaks up behind me like he does and asks why a handsome guy like me was still single. At first, I thought he was coming on to me, or something, but then he continues, asking I left a trail of broken hearts wherever I went, if I had my sights set on anyone here yet, and the whole time he's pacing around me, doing that bendy Gumby thing he does." Alex smirked. She'd never heard it described quite like that before. "People are starting to stare. The elevator arrives, I start to get on, but he gets in front of me, right in my face, so I - I took a swing."

"So, that was it, he just irritated you?" _Just_ nothing, Alex thought to herself. Bobby had a gift for irritating people. There were some days when _she_ was tempted to take a swing. Edward shook his head.

"I left Oregon because the woman I had known since high school, had been seeing for five years, and had been engaged to for two, decided she didn't really want to get married, and then I discovered that she had been cheating on me with our upstairs neighbor - our _female_ neighbor - for a year."

"Ouch," Alex said.

"Yeah, so I really didn't appreciate his comments. In general, I don't like him because he reminds me of all those guys in high school that made my life Hell for four years. Strong, smart, charming, but a bully underneath. I've watched him interrogate suspects, and sure, it works on the guilty ones, but what about the others, the ones that didn't do anything? You can't tell me he never turns that weapon on an innocent person, flays them to within an inch of their sanity, drags out every skeleton, every mistake, every raw, open wound they've tried to put behind them?"

"Yeah, sometimes _we_ make mistakes," Alex said, reminding him that Bobby wasn't doing it alone, "everyone does. And you're right, he can get carried away if I forget to rein him in, but he is effective."

"I'm not arguing that, I just don't like his methods. He -" Edward stopped, and she was suddenly very aware of how much their bodies were touching. She felt that heavy caress against her skin again, that touch that no mortal could duplicate.

"What is that?" Elliot asked, his voice strained as he instinctively fought against the power, his hands creeping up her thigh.

"Olivia is coming," Alex said, absently swatting at his hands, like you would an insect. "Relax. She's going to need you to be strong when she get here."

"What are you talking about?" Elliot said, his body growing still and then drawing away from hers. "This is Olivia - she's a detective, not a China doll." His flippant tone was betrayed by the worry in his eyes.

"She's also carrying around some significant demons," Alex replied. "She has a personal investment in the SVU - sexual assault, rape victims - she was, or it was someone close to her." Elliot frowned.

"Her mother. She was the result." Well, Alex hadn't quite gotten that far. "How did you -"

"I didn't get my badge out of a Cracker Jack box, detective," she said, wrapping her arms tighter around Edward as the room turned inside out once again. There was that moment of chaos, all of them sliding, writhing like a ball of snakes, bodies of black, white, bronze, cream, and cocoa gliding like silk around her. She wasn't sure who she was touching, or who was touching her, but by then, she didn't really care. This orgy had taken on all the heat of a sexual harassment seminar. She glanced around, searching for Olivia, and found her struggling between Munch and Elliot, her face twisted in horror, trapped in a living nightmare.

"Take it easy, Liv," Munch was saying, his hands taking her hips, his chin resting on her shoulder as he moved behind her. She and Elliot were face to face, their bodies touching from chest to knee. She stared up at him, fighting to get away, but the harder she fought, the closer the power forced them. Alex could feel the incubus starting to exert itself over her again and she sagged against Edward, finding a haven in his arms.

"You gotta calm down, girl," Fin said, his voice strained as Olivia's fear drew him like a moth to a flame.

"Don't - don't touch me," Olivia gasped, desperation screaming through every flailing movement she tried to make. Alex had once seen a young deer tangled in barbed wire while visiting her cousin's farm as a teenager. The terrified creature had been near death, cut to the bone by the barbs and half strangled, but it still kicked and struggled, drawing those loops of wire tighter and tighter, not understanding that it was killing itself trying to get free. This was just as hard to watch. Her uncle had put a bullet in the deer's head. Alex didn't have that option.

"Why are we still here?" Alex demanded of Munch, her anger rising. "Why doesn't Bishop end this?"

"She can't, not with Olivia like she is," he said. His face was half hidden in Olivia's hair, but Alex could see his agonized expression as his hands, his body, continued to touch his terrified friend. "If Bishop brings us back now, Liv will still be trying to escape. She'll break the circle and kill us all."

"Does Bishop know that?" Edward asked over Alex's shoulder. Munch lifted his head enough to give them a somber look.

"I hope so."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	35. Chapter 35

Author's note - Sorry this is Thursday instead of last Monday. I haven't had much chance to write - busy getting ready for this camping trip. Man, what a lot of work! Anyway, here's a nice long chapter to tide you over until I can post again. It'll probably next Wednesday or Thursday, depending on how exhausted this vacation leaves me. I can't take my computer, but I'm packing lots of pencils and notebooks, so hopefully I can get _some_ writing done. Thanks for all your reviews and I can't wait to hear what you think about this one when I get home. Oh, and _somebody_ will be glad to hear that this one isn't a cliffhanger, lol.

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Alex turned her attention to Olivia. Her reaction was even worse than she'd expected, worse than it should be. This was a strong woman, a capable detective who witnessed horrors worse than this every day. So why was a simple game of naked co-ed Twister freaking her out?

"Wake up - wake up - please, wake up," Olivia repeated again and again, her breathless mantra interrupted only by short, strangled gasps.

"No, Liv, no," Elliot whispered, his face twisted by some unimaginable pain and sadness.

"What is it?" Novak asked. "Elliot, what's wrong with her?"

"Last week," Elliot said, his voice hoarse, "she told me about this nightmare she had a few weeks back, one that wouldn't let her go back to sleep. A man attacked her, raped her, and when she finally saw his face ... it was me." Alex closed her eyes, her heart aching. Living nightmare, her ass, this was absolute hell.

"Don't, Elliot, please," Olivia begged. She screamed as he grabbed her, winding one hand into her hair the way Alex had done with him, making sure she heard him.

"It's okay, baby," Elliot said, holding her eyes with his. "You're not dreaming. Listen to me, look at me, trust me." Tears streaked her face, but she had stopped that terrible gasping. She watched Elliot with trepidation, her eyes filled with the fear of betrayal. He reached up to wipe her tears away and she tensed, causing his hand to close on her arm of its own accord. "Relax, Liv, I'm not going to hurt you." The words pained him visibly and he leaned his head against hers, then drew back and laid a gentle kiss on her tear-stained cheek. She went still against him, a kind of inner quiet that let them all breathe a little easier. Elliot kissed her again, just above the corner of her mouth. He whispered something Alex couldn't hear, then waited, his parted lips barely an inch above hers. The room seemed to hold it's breath as Olivia stared up at him, then slowly closed her eyes and leaned into his kiss.

Alex felt her breath catch in her throat as Olivia sobbed and melted against him, her arms wrapping around him as if for dear life. The last of the incubus's lust lifted and a chorus of relieved sighs rose up. At last, they were free to find a little elbow room. Alex didn't move, expecting the others to scatter like a handful of dropped marbles, but for the most part, they remained as they were. Munch slipped away from Olivia and Elliot, nestling himself between Alex and Fin, his hands rubbing his weary face. Alex leaned against him before she could stop herself, but he seemed to take comfort in her touch in a way that had nothing to do with sex.

"Well, that was interesting," Logan said dryly, his wide, warm back against hers. "Can we go home now?"

"Olivia?" Munch said, hardly louder than a whisper. "Are you okay?" As if in response, her sobs grew quieter. After a minute, she raised her head enough to speak.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice raspy from crying, "I tried to stay calm, I thought I knew what to expect, what to do, but - it was such a shock - you never said what was going on in here."

"Wait, you could hear us?" Alex asked. Olivia nodded. "Everything we said?"

"Pretty much." She reached up and wiped the tear tracks off her face with the back of her hand. "I tried to pay attention to what John was saying, but I heard about your fiancé, Edward." Alex felt him tense beside her. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," he replied graciously, but Alex could tell that sympathy was the last thing he wanted. "I heard about your nightmare. I'm sorry." Alex glanced up at him, but couldn't tell if his insensitivity was deliberate, or just his usual social ineptness. Olivia couldn't seem to decide either.

"Thank you," she said, her voice trailing into a whisper as she leaned her head back against Elliot's shoulder. Elliot stroked her hair with one hand and glared at Edward. At least one of them had made up his mind.

"So, can we get out of here now?" Novak asked after a moment. "I can't take much more of this."

"Oh, I don't know," Logan said, stretching lazily, "I'm actually starting to get comfortable."

"That's what's bothering me," Novak said. "I don't think being in the middle of a big pile of naked people should feel this normal."

"It's only society that deems it abnormal," Dr. Huang said, interjecting his professional opinion. "Touch is one of the strongest methods of communicating trust, friendship, attraction, love. We shake hands when we meet a new person, we hug old friends, we make love to say what words alone cannot express." He gave a crooked smile. "I'm as ready to get out of here as anyone, but there's nothing abnormal about finding the touch of a friend comforting."

"If you were holding my hand instead of my ass, I might agree with you," Novak said, looking over her shoulder at him. Alex smothered a laugh as Huang brought his hand up to Novak's hip, his expression reminding her of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She turned to Munch.

"So, if Olivia could hear us, Bishop probably can, too."

"I would say so, yes."

"Good." She raised her voice. "Okay, you can stop messing around with my partner now and bring us back." In a more conversational tone, she said, "If she can, that is. Being the great-great-great bastard child of some slutty goddess doesn't mean she can handle the incubus." Alex had hardly finished speaking when the room gave a great lurch, the luminous red walls flaring with flashes of bright white and streaks of black and violet.

"Nobody move," Munch commanded as they twisted inside out once more, and found themselves standing on the rooftop again. Alex blinked hard in the eerie pre-dawn light, staggering forward a step as her head spun. The others swayed drunkenly, but their hands remained tightly clasped. In the center of the circle, the incubus - no, Bobby - stood forlornly, his arms hanging limp at his sides, shoulders stooped, a line of blood running down his chin. Alex glanced at Bishop, whose lip was also smeared with blood, through Alex was willing to bet that it wasn't hers.

"Sorry about that," Bishop said, her eyes sweeping the circle. She lingered on Edward and Olivia. "I would have warned you, but I didn't want to tip off the incubus."

"You bit him," Alex said, surprising even herself with the accusatory tone in her voice.

"My hands were full," Bishop said, tilting her back a fraction to give the impression that she was looking down her nose. "I had to get him off of me somehow."

"We'll fight about it later," Munch said, giving Alex a hard look as she opened her mouth to speak. "We don't have time now." Alex turned her attention to Bobby, who had begun looking for his hydrangea. He found the flower and took his place in the center once more, his eyes seeking her out, a raw, hollow pain peering out at her.

He was hurt, hurt that he'd been left behind again, and hurting because he knew it was wrong to wish to have been there. He was also jealous that Edward had been and become so close to her. How she knew these things just by looking at him, she wasn't sure. This was so much more than reading an expression and making an educated guess. It was as if she could feel what he was feeling. And he was feeling like a worthless son of a bitch for wanting to be a part of their magick induced orgy - no, not the orgy, the moments of peaceful closeness they shared between bouts of lust and fear. The touching and being touched, and having it be normal, that was what he wanted. Normalcy above all else -

"Alex?" Her head snapped around at the sound of her name. It must not have been the first time Munch tried to get her attention, because everyone was staring at her. "Are you ready?" She swallowed hard and nodded, forcing her eyes to the ground to keep them off Bobby. "All right, then. We need to focus, focus on driving the curse into the ring in Goren's hand." Hesitantly, she looked up, but whatever it was that happened before, it didn't happen again. If she was lucky, it was a one time only sort of thing. Bobby held out his hand, the ring gleaming softly on his palm. "Now, we've only got one shot at this, so repeat after me - and mean it. _As I breathe / As I stand / I cast thee out / With all that I am_." Alex felt Logan and Carver gripping her hands, but her eyes were only for Bobby, for the curse that again became clear inside him, writhing, clawing, trying to keep its hold on her friend.

"As I breathe, as I stand, I cast thee out, with all that I am," she said, the others picking up the chant one at a time, their voices blending, rising, drawing the gathered power into one spot - Bobby.

He stood stiff, his head thrown back, hands clenched into fists. Veins and cords stood out on his neck and arms, his face twisted into a silent, agonized scream. Tears burned down her face as she came back to that phrase again and again, "_With all that I am_", the words frail and insufficient to convey the depth, the power of the emotion thrumming through her. It was like trying to carry the ocean in a plastic pail. She couldn't do it; it was impossible. Every rational cell in her body screamed that you could not put that much of anything in such a small space, and that included the amount of magick that was trying to enter her. She fell silent, felt the power ebb away, watched helplessly as the incubus fought against her friends and would not be backed down.

Behind Bishop, the sky was a pale, pearly silver. Time was almost up and the curse didn't look to be going anywhere. In the center of the circle, Bobby fell to his knees, and her heart plunged into the empty pit of her soul. She had failed him. He was going to die, and it was her fault.

"_No, Alex, you haven't. Remember, I love you_." His voice couldn't have been clearer had he stood at her shoulder and spoken in her ear. His presence was all around her - the smell of his skin, the heat of his body, even the sound of his breathing, the touch of his hands, the taste of his lips. It awoke that fire inside her, the light of which all other loves are just shadows. Love. That was the answer to the riddle. Maybe a handful of magick couldn't fit into one feisty New York detective, but any woman could harbor love enough to light the universe.

"As I breathe, as I stand," she said, her voice out of sequence the others, "I give my love, with all that I am." She could feel that warm, buttery glow filling her again, spilling out of her into Logan and Carver. The incubus thrashed within Bobby, jerking his body around like a rag doll. The rest of the circle fell silent, leaving her to chant alone, but it was okay; for the first time in a long time, she knew what she was doing. "As I breathe, as I stand, I give my love, with all that I am." The incubus gave a single horrific shriek and fled into the only place that promised relief and safety - the ring. Bobby fell forward onto his face and lay still. It was all Alex could do not to run to his side.

As the echoes died away, leaving them standing in almost complete silence, Munch took a shaky breath.

"So mote it be," he said solemnly. He glanced over at her, his face glistening with sweat in the early morning light. "I take it back, again," he said. "You would make an _excellent_ witch."

"It wasn't magick," she said quietly. "It was love."

"What do you think magick is?" Munch asked quietly. "The love of the Lord and Lady, our love for each other, for ourselves. No greater power exists." Alex wasn't really listening. Bobby still hadn't stirred.

"Can we -"

"Yes, of course." Starting with Huang and working backward around the circle, they thanked the powers that came to their aid and returned them from whence they came. The wall of light around them faded and flickered and died away. As one, they opened the circle, their plants falling to dust between them, and stepped backward over the salt. It was like rewinding the ritual. Alex, Olivia, Novak and Bishop picked up their implements, the wand still burning with that pure, undying fire. Olivia thanked the water, and the spirit of the West. Alex and the others did the same, then they scuffed the circle of salt, breaking it in twelve places. "It's done."

They rushed to Bobby's side, but Alex got there first. He was so cold. With Elliot's help, she rolled him onto his back. He didn't seem to be breathing. She laid her ear against his chest. Silence. Dr. Huang checked for a pulse, his face grim as he slowly shook his head.

Her hand trembling, Alex reached out and stroked the side of Bobby's face. She just stared at him, cold, numb. Her eyes were too full of tears to cry, her throat too full of words to scream, her heart to full of pain to break, so it was the anger that showed first. She slammed her fists against his chest with meaty thud.

"_Sonofabitch!_" she screamed, hitting him again. Someone grabbed her from behind, probably Edward, strong arms wrapping around her, holding her still. She fought him, clawing at his arms, thrashing her body from side to side. Another pair of hands grabbed her, and she looked up into Munch's face. "Bring him back!" she demanded. "Work your magick and bring him back."

"I can't, Alex," he whispered, pushing her hair back out of her eyes, "I don't have the power." She didn't buy it. What good was magick if it couldn't save one life?

"I'll take his place," she said. "I know how this works, it's about balance - an eye for an eye, ying for yang, a life for a life. I _am_ balance. I will give my life to save him ..." Munch was shaking his head.

"Even if I could, is that what you think he'd want?" She stared at him, sure that if she tried hard enough not to understand, he wouldn't be right. But he was. She hung her head, weeping like a child. That only lasted a moment, though, before she pushed Edward away. Her hands found Bobby's face again, brushing aside the bits of gravel still imbedded in his skin, smoothing his hair, tracing the line of his jaw, of his lips. Gently, she wiped the blood away. One last time, she leaned down and kissed him.

Standing up, she stepped between Edward and Deakins, both men with lines of tears on their cheeks. They let her slip past them, neither trying to comfort or restrain her, and she was grateful. She stared up at the peach and pink sky, the rising sun reflected in the dark and empty windows of the surrounding buildings, the black silhouettes of pigeons and swifts gliding overhead. She'd never seen a more beautiful New York morning. The world sure could be cruel. Turning away from the sunrise, her eyes fell upon the still form of Raum.

Her vision splintered, like looking through broken crystal. She reached for the gun at her hip, her fingers brushing the cold metal, but she pulled her hand back. A bullet was too good for that monster. She walked toward him, slowly, one foot before the other, her eyes drawn to the rusty metal pipe lying beside his thin, pale hand. She picked it up.

"Alex, what are you doing?" Olivia's voice sounded so distant, so far away.

"He deserves to die," she said tonelessly. "For this, he deserves to die horribly, but I would let him rot in prison, if I thought he would ever end up there." She began to walk the length of him, from head to foot, each deliberate step in front of the last, the pipe thudding dully against her leg. "We have no laws for this kind of thing. He is going to walk away, he is going to hurt someone else. How many more innocent lives are we going to let him ruin?"

"You're right, the NYPD can't touch him," Munch said, walking toward her, his hands out in a non-threatening and patronizing manner, "but the Witch's Council can. They've been after him for a long time. And I can guarantee, the punishment they dish out is far worse than death."

"Really? Does he get to watch his partner lie dead at his feet and know that it was his fault, 'cause that's about the only thing I can think of that worse than death!" She turned on her heel, raising the pipe above her head in a wide arc. It was a shame he was unconscious; she would have liked him to feel this.

The pipe was snatched from her hand. She glared at Logan, who dropped the pipe and rubbed his palm.

"Quite an arm you got there," he said. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to kill him. But you wouldn't do that, because you know that killing Raum won't bring your partner back." She pulled her weapon and pointed it at Raum's head. Shock was the main reaction, surprise, disbelief, and disappointment from Deakins. That hurt, but she stomped the pain down. She only had breath enough for one agony at a time. She looked down at Raum, lying so quiet, so peaceful. He should have been awake, should have known what was coming. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Logan take a step toward her and she released the safety, her finger tightening on the trigger.

"Maybe it won't bring him back," Alex said slowly, "but it'll make me feel a whole hell of a lot better." There was a startled gasp, then another, several '_Oh, my God_'s and one '_Merciful Goddess_'.

"No, Alex, it won't." Her hand shook at the sound of Bobby's voice. It wasn't right in her ear this time, but it was just as clear, just as real. She glanced up, her whole body going numb at the sight of Bobby standing alone in the middle of the crowd. The others had drawn back from him, their mouths hanging open, eyes staring.

"Bobby?" she whispered. He walked toward her, his head tilted forward, watching her from under lowered brows. She looked past him, to where his body had lain, half expecting it to still be there, for him to be a ghost, but the spot was empty. He reached for her weapon, but she jumped back, swinging around to train the sights on his chest. "Don't move," she said, her voice strained as she tried to talk around her pounding heart, which was suddenly lodged in her throat. "John?" She didn't dare take her eyes off him, catching only a slight movement out of the corner of her eye as Munch stepped forward.

"Yeah, Alex?" He had that same wary, placating tone as before, the one that made her want to do something crazy. After all, if he was going to treat her like a lunatic, she ought to do something to deserve it.

"He was dead," she said, her hands trembling at the words, but she gritted her teeth and tightened her grip. "He looks pretty alive right now. You said magick couldn't bring him back, so what the hell is gong on here?"

"I didn't - " Munch started, but Bobby cut him off.

"Put the gun down, Alex," he said, taking a step toward her. She raised her arms, aiming right between his eyes, and he backed off.

"What kind of cockeyed magick crap is this?" Alex demanded. "Is it a spell, a demon, the incubus, what? Or am I making a complete jackass out of myself?"

"Hee haw," Bobby said humorlessly.

"Shut up," she told him. "Comebacks and one liners are my forte; if you were really Bobby, you'd know that."

"And if you weren't having the worst day of your life, you'd know it was me. Look at me, Eames, touch me, you'll know. It's me."

"It - it could be, Alex," Munch said. "I never said magick couldn't bring him back - I said _I_ didn't have the power to do it. There are forces at work here that nobody understands. And it would be a shame to shoot your partner and _then_ find out he was telling the truth. If it is a demon, or a wraith, or a Paguristes ghoul - "

"_A what?_" Alex and Bobby asked in unison. She narrowed her eyes at him and tightened her grip on her gun. "_You_ don't know what it is? _Bobby_ knows everything." He gave her an exaggerated eye roll.

"Good God, Eames, I do not. If you want to give me a minute, I could go look it up for you." He looked out over the rooftops and sighed. "Okay, Paguristes is the genus of several hermit crabs, but that's as much as I know." Alex glanced over at Munch.

"Hermit crabs?" He shrugged.

"Basically, yes. Paguristes ghouls inhabit the bodies of the recently deceased like hermit crabs inhabit old shells; that's how they got their name. That and they both eat carrion. There's little chance of Goren being one, though, they're fairly rare." Alex lowered her weapon, pointing it back at his chest instead of his head. What if it was him? What if it wasn't? If Bobby was really gone, there was no way he would want some _thing_ using his body, wearing him like a - like a suit. She backed away, pulling Munch to the side, but kept her weapon trained on her partner.

"How can we tell?" she asked. "Is there some kind of test?"

"Of course," Munch said. "The dead have no heartbeat."

"As simple as that?" she asked, slightly annoyed. He returned the look.

"I tried to tell you."

"You two want to hurry up - it was a long night _before_ I had to rise from the dead," Bobby called, stifling a yawn. She walked back across the roof toward him, pressing the barrel of her gun into his chest.

"Touch me and it'll be the last thing you ever do," she said, reaching out with her free hand to check the pulse in his wrist.

"That's not what you said earlier."

"You are _so_ not funny," she replied. His heartbeat pattered steadily beneath her fingertips, his skin warm once more. "Okay, it's him," she said, letting go of his arm and holstering her weapon. Her hands were shaking again. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh, cry, scream, or throw up, but if she didn't get a grip, it was probably going to be some combination of two or more. She smacked him on the arm with the back of her hand. "What the hell did you think you were doing, dying like that!"

"Sorry, Eames, it couldn't exactly be helped," he said, rubbing his arm and smiling slightly.

"And then you had to come back from the dead and damn near give me a heart attack."

"Well, that - that was your fault, you know."

"My fault? How is it _my_ fault?"

"It was your kiss that brought me back, reminded me that I had too much left ... unfinished, too much to - to live for." Alex felt the anger bleed out of her, that buttery warmth overflowing in her chest and catching at the back of her throat, pricking her eyes with tears. She blinked them back, determined not to cry. Bobby reached out and cupped her cheek in his big hand, drawing her toward him without a word, his thumb tracing the edge of her lower lip. The coarse denim slid beneath her fingers like silk as she ran her hand down his chest. Slowly, he bent his head toward hers, those dark eyes, so full of unspoken promises and barely whispered secrets, devouring every line, every curve of her face.

"_Ah-choo!_"

"Gesundheit," Bobby said, his eyes crinkling in a smile. They stepped back from each other and glanced over at Logan, who was rubbing his nose and looking sheepish.

"Please, don't stop on my account," he said. Alex let her eyes travel over the assembled faces, finally stopping on Deakins. He didn't look too pissed, she decided. She turned away and rubbed her face with both hands, wandering over to the roof edge as Bobby was swarmed by their friends, their voices buzzing like a beehive.

"Were you really dead? What was it like? Are you okay? How do you feel?" She didn't envy him at all. Had she not been feeling like week-old road-kill, she'd have gone over and rescued him; as it was, she just stood staring down into the street. She didn't even realize she was crying until her vision became too blurry to see.

"See anything interesting down there?" Edward asked, stepping up beside her. She bit her lip, trying to stop the tears, but they continued to course down her cheeks. "Hey, Eames, are you okay?" She shook her head.

"I was going to kill him," she said, her voice thick and husky from crying.

"Who, Goren?"

"Raum. I was going to beat him with that pipe until he was unrecognizable. I - I didn't think I was capable, but I'm no different than the perps we - "

"Stop right there, Alex," Edward said, grabbing her by the shoulder. "You are nothing like those people. You're a good person, but even good people can be pushed too far. That's why we have the temporary insanity defense." It wasn't that funny, but she laughed through the tears, then turned and hid her face again Edward's shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, holding her to his chest. He smelled different from Bobby, not better or worse, just different, cooler, crisper, like snow, like mountains.

One hand gently stroked her hair, easing the ache deep in her chest. After a while, she stopped crying, her ragged breathing slowing. His touch was almost therapeutic. She leaned against him, with no desire to leave the safety of his arms. This was a man she had hardly spoken to before that morning, but right then, she couldn't think of a more comforting place.

* * *

PS - _He he he_, didn't think I'd kill him, did ya? Well, I did. See, there's nothing I won't do! (_Insert manical laughter here._)

PSS - This isn't the end, in case anyone was wondering. Oh no, I've big plans for our intrepid heroes.

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.


	36. Chapter 36

Author's note - Yay, back from camping in hell! JK, it was fun, but it did rain most of Friday and Saturday, and then was schorchingly hot Sunday and Monday. I got no less than 22 mosquito bites and probably have West Nile Virus. I'm pretty healthy, so it shouldn't kill me, never fear, LOL. I got sunburned on the top of my head 'cause I forgot to take a hat, on my nose and cheeks, a bit on my shoulders and chest, and on my legs.

For those of you who've never been to Crescent Lake (probably all of you) imagine a giant catbox full of mosquitos, hornets and spiders, where it's thirty degrees at night and a hundred and ten in the day. The lake was too cold to swim, but we went wading a few times. We did see a bunch of chipmunks, which are just too cute, two big mule deer does, several osprey and a bald eagle. Friends and family camped with us or just came up for a day, and we had a great time with them. I didn't get any writing done, so the chapters might have to be shorter in the future, or else farther apart. I hope I can catch up.

I'm glad to be back, so let's get on with the show! Thanks for all the reviews, what a great treat to come home to.

* * *

Alex jumped awake, her heart fluttering in a wild moment of panic as she tried to remember where she was. She pulled away from Edward, not completely out of his arms, but enough to look around. The roof was cleared, the circle of salt scuffed away, with only Bobby, Deakins, Munch and Elliot remaining, speaking quietly amongst themselves about twenty feet away. Raum was gone.

"Where is he?" Alex asked, resting one hand on Edward's forearm.

"Who? Raum? He was taken to lockup." She glanced up at Bobby, who was watching her over Munch's shoulder. For a second, he looked lost, abandoned, alone, then he dropped his eyes and turned away. She slipped out of Edward's arms.

"I have to talk to him."

"He's going to be out for several hours, Alex," Edward called after her, but she was already halfway across the roof and didn't feel like explaining it to him. Whatever they guys were talking about, they stopped as she approached, breaking their little circle and turning to face her.

"Feeling better?" Munch asked, his usual smirk replaced with a tired smile. "You looked so peaceful, we didn't want to wake you, and Detective Sledge said he didn't mind." Bobby frowned and brought his fist up to his lips, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It was his 'I'm going to explode if I don't say this' look.

"How long was I out?" she asked quickly, heading off what was sure to be a disparaging remark about Edward.

"Fifteen minutes or so," Elliot said.

"No wonder I still feel like crap," she said with a weak chuckle. Fifteen minutes - she felt like she could sleep for the next fifteen hours. "How long until Raum wakes?" she asked, stifling a yawn with her hand.

"Eight hours, maybe ten," Munch replied. "You should go home, all of you." He swept his gaze over the lot of them. "A representative of the Council will be here tomorrow night to take Raum into custody. All we have to do is hold him until then."

"On what grounds?" Deakins asked with a frown. Munch peered at him over the tops of his glasses. "You have to charge him with something if you want to hold him longer than twenty-four hours, or did they change that law while I wasn't looking?"

"Sorry, Captain Deakins," Munch said, "but the court system is going to have to bend over and take it in the ass this time."

"Excuse me?"

"We can't charge Raum with anything," Munch explained. "Not only does he not exist legally, after tomorrow night, he probably won't exist at all, and that's a lot of paperwork I don't want to have to fill out."

"Which means we get to violate the hell out of his civil rights," Elliot said with a shark-like grin.

"I agree that this guy is an exception," Deakins said, "but you're talking unlawful imprisonment and accessory to murder."

"Those who live by the wand, die by the wand," Munch said solemnly. "Raum was found guilty by _his_ peers a long time ago. We're just keeping him until he can be extradited." Before Deakins could form another argument, an eerie sound rose up around them, like the echoing howl of a hound. It made the hair on the back of Alex's neck stand on end.

"What was that?" Edward asked, his arm brushing against hers as he stepped up beside her.

"Tarak," Munch said, turning toward the roof door. A moment later, the door swung open and a man stepped out. He was average height, better than average looks, with a wiry build and some East Indian somewhere in his family tree. His face was thin, almost regal, with a neat goatee framing his mouth. In the new sunlight, his hair glowed the color of honey, except at the temples, which sparkled with silver. Must have started going gray early, Alex noted. He had to be in his early to mid-thirties. He flashed a white smile as he walked over to them.

"Now do you want to tell me what's going on, John?" As he drew closer, his eyes took in each of them in turn, lingering on Alex. "So, are these your friends?" Alex bristled under his gaze. It wasn't overtly suggestive or threatening - in fact, first impression said he was a nice, polite, fun guy, but something about him set her fur on end. Behind him, she caught a flash of movement, but by the time she'd turned her attention to that area, whatever it was had disappeared.

"No, Tarak, these are just some strangers I met on the roof here," Munch said. Even his sarcasm sounded tired, Alex noted. He quickly made introductions. "These are Detectives Elliot Stabler, Robert Goren, Alex Eames, Edward Sledge and Captain James Deakins. Everybody, this is - "

"Tarak, at your service," Tarak interrupted, offering his hand to Alex. She gave it only a brief shake before letting go. "Sorry about the - " He reached up like he was going to touch her face and she pulled away. "Still hurts?" It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about - the welt that the dart had left along her face. She shrugged, trying to heed her instincts, but unable to see why they were telling her that this guy was bad news. He looked at her a moment longer before shaking hands with the others. "Hey," he said when got to Bobby, "you're the sucker in the circle. What the heck did you do?"

"He was on the receiving end of an incubus curse," Munch said. Tarak raised his eyebrows.

"Wow, who'd you piss off?" Out of the corner of her eye, Alex caught some small movement off to her right. She glanced across the roof, but nothing was there.

"Raum," Munch said. Tarak was silent for a moment. When Alex turned back to him, he was staring at Munch like he'd grown another head.

"Raum," Tarak repeated, "as in the Carrion Crow? As in the number one most wanted warlock in the world? As in the son of a bitch who leveled a Scottish village because the inn was fresh out of haggis?"

"Yeah, that's the guy," Munch said. Tarak looked out over the waking city, absently stroking his goatee.

"That's - that's who I shot, isn't it?" They all nodded. "Son of a - Great, just great, John."

"What," Munch asked, "you don't want to be known as the man who brought down Raum?" Alex whipped her head around, trying to catch whatever it was that she kept seeing just out of the edge of her vision. Again, there was nothing there.

"No, I truly don't," Tarak replied. "That monster has escaped from the Witch's Council more than once. If he does it again, don't you think he's going to want revenge?"

"Why, Tarak, if I didn't know better, I'd say you sounded scared of this guy." Tarak gave Munch a dead-eye gaze. "Considering what you do for a living, I wouldn't think a simple wayward warlock would bother you this much."

"We both know that Raum is no 'simple wayward warlock'," Tarak returned, "so stop giving me grief, John. That man would have killed you all, and enjoyed it. And leave what I do for a living out of this. I'm proud of my job."

"As you should be," Munch said, and inclined his head slightly toward Tarak, acknowledging that he may have gone too far. "The city owes you a debt of gratitude, even if they don't know it."

"What is it you _do_, exactly?" Deakins asked. Tarak hesitated.

"He's in law enforcement," Munch supplied.

"Really," Bobby said, the slight disbelief in his tone drawing Alex's attention. No one else seemed to notice. "Which ... agency?"

"Animal Control," Tarak replied, raising his chin slightly. Alex had spent enough time with her brothers to know that look - the 'what are you going to do about it' look. She'd also spent enough time with her partner to know exactly what he would do about it, if the situation warranted doing anything, and from the look on Bobby's face, something warranted a severe looking into. Normally, she would have loved to help, especially with her 'spider-senses' going all crazy on her, but after the day and night she'd had, the last thing she wanted to was to watch Tarak get dissected up there on the roof.

"Well, it's been a pleasure," she said, stepping between the men and briefly touching Bobby on the forearm. She turned to Tarak. "Nice to meet you, thanks for saving our lives, excuse me for not staying, but my partner and I need to go to bed. To sleep. We need rest - obviously." She nearly gave herself whiplash as that _something_ moved just out of sight again. She groaned and rubbed her eyes. "Rambling _and_ imagining things. Great."

"Must be contagious," Deakins said with a chuckle. "I swear something up here keeps just at the edge of my vision."

"It's the rising sun," Elliot said with a yawn. "It does weird things with your eyes. I've been seeing it too." Maybe she _was_ imagining things, but Alex would have sworn Munch glanced over at Tarak and the two of them shared a small, secret smile. It was there and gone in the blink of an eye, and Munch turned back to them.

"All right, everybody go home," the warlock said. "I'll catch some sleep in the crash room until Raum wakes up. I assume you'll want to question him? If not, I can just keep him unconscious until the Council comes. Less dangerous that way."

"No," Bobby said, "I need to talk to him, to - to understand why he would ... do this."

"Good luck," Munch said with a sigh.

"I want to 'talk' to him, too," Elliot said, and from the tone of his voice, Alex could tell that there would be few words involved.

"Fine. He'll need to be dosed with more knotweed and eyebright in a few hours." Munch glanced from Elliot to Bobby. "So, who wants first crack at him?"

"We do," Bobby and Alex said together. They glanced at Elliot, who, surprisingly, shrugged.

"As long as I get five minutes with him before the witch people show up, I don't really care," Elliot said, his eyes hard as chips of dark sapphire.

"After what he did ...," Bobby said, "you can have an hour." Their eyes met and there was this moment of male bonding, some kind of mutual 'no one hurts _my_ woman and gets away with it' crap that Alex found slightly sexist, but fairly sweet. Guys would always be guys, after all, and it never hurt to let them feel special once and a while.

"All right then," Munch said. "I'll call you two as soon as he wakes." They handed him their cell phone numbers and headed for the door, walking in silence until they reached the front steps of the precinct. Bobby mumbled something about hailing a cab, but Alex put a stop to that immediately.

"I'm not leaving the SUV parked here all day," she said. "I'm also not sure if I can stay awake to drive, so you get to come with me and keep me awake." She brushed her hair out of her eyes and glanced up and down the street. "Where the hell are we? Is my place closer, or yours?"

"About the same, I think," Bobby said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "It's a couple of blocks in - in your favor."

"That settles it then - we're going to my place." She held up her hand as he started to protest. "I can barely keep my eyes open, Goren, I'm not running all over the city taking you home. Besides, I know you - you won't have anything decent in your fridge and you need to eat. A slice of pizza does not a meal make." She headed for the parking garage, forcing him to follow by continuing to talk. "Neither of us would get any rest on a couch, and mine's the bigger bed, -" She heard his footsteps falter at these words. "- so my place is the logical solution. Plus, when Munch calls, we can arrive together in a timely fashion, and no one has to pick the other up."

"Sounds like ... you've got it all worked out," he said. She just shrugged and kept walking. A moment later, he'd caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm, stepping around her until they were face to face. "About what I said earlier, about wanting to remember ..."

"Let me guess," Alex said with a tight smile. "It sounded romantic at the time, when you thought we were going to die anyway, but now that we've survived, you've changed your mind." That wasn't it, she knew that, but nothing could get him talking like a wrong assumption.

"No," he said with a frown, "not at all. If I wasn't so damn tired, I'd - It's just, going to your place ... with your big bed ..." He kept pausing, waiting for her to fill in the gaps, to give something away, but she just kept her mouth shut and made him finish the thought. "I didn't want you to think we had to remember tonight - this morning - now." With a tired smile unfolding upon her lips, Alex reached up and laid her hand against his cheek, that omnipresent 5 o'clock shadow just a few hours away from qualifying as a beard.

"Don't worry, Bobby, I'm so tired, even with your impressive ... skill, I'd probably sleep right through it anyway, so let's save the remembering for a time when we can both be awake to enjoy it. Sound good?" He reached up and took her hand, pressing her fingertips briefly to his lips.

"Sounds good, Eames," he said, enveloping her hand in his as they started toward the SUV again. "Sounds real good."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	37. Chapter 37

Author's note - Thanks for all the reviews, I couldn't do this without you guys.

svufreak - I'm not making Munch evil, I wouldn't do that. Why _did_ Edward have to comfort Eames? Hmmm ... because he cares for her.

TrinityWildcat - Not soon, but it'll be an entire shoe store when it does, lol.

ElizaJane - Great, I've got a pack of slavering fanfic junkies gnawing on their mousepads waiting for me to update. (_wicked laugh_) I love you guys.

TriStateCopFan - 'Fun' isn't going to begin to describe it.

Strawberry-ksc - (_in a sing-song voice_) I'm not telling! Lol. Don't worry, it's not imperitive to this plot, but if I get around to the sequel ...

08ClassicRockChicky08 - Sorry you're going to be gone so long. Have fun catching up.

Shellster - No trouble, really.

Lina-Baggins - I have heard. I've got mixed feelings about it right now. I'm a 'wait and see' kinda girl, so we'll just cross our fingers and see how it turns out.

KendraC - I'm not making any promises. Sorry, you'll have to wait a little longer.

Da-Sxc-Crunchie - Lol, I get stared at while I'm writing. What do I expect when I burst into random fits of giggles?

Rach - I'm fine. Thank God for Benadryl, lol. The bites are nearly gone now. About Bobby calling Alex Eames - Old habits are hard to break.

* * *

How they managed to get to her apartment without a major traffic accident, Alex would never know. Looking back, it was a really stupid thing to do, but at the moment it had seemed the only solution. Not even realizing how lucky there were, they staggered out of the elevator and down the hall, Alex fumbling for her keys as Bobby leaned against the wall and dozed. Once the door was open and they were safely inside, Alex had barely latched the chain before heading for the kitchen.

"Need. Coffee. Now," she groaned, rummaging through the cupboard for the jar of instant she kept for emergencies. This more than qualified. She debated just eating the crystals, but finally decided that was pushing it a little. She didn't want to be buzzed for hours, but it would be nice to stay awake long enough to shower and eat. "Want some?"

"Please," Bobby replied from the living room. She popped two mugs of water into the microwave. "Is this a new picture of your nephew?" Alex smiled. Trust him to notice.

"Yeah, that's the wagon I got him for Christmas." In a moment, he had joined her in the kitchen.

"He sure looks a lot like you," Bobby said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Not surprising. Everyone says my sister and I could be twins." She took the steaming mugs out of the microwave, stirred a generous spoonful of crystals in each one, and turned to hand him his. She froze mid-motion. He was staring at her, watching her with that intensity that bordered on frightening. "What?"

"I've seen your sister, and I'm sorry, but she doesn't have any of your fire, your brilliance. She is pretty, but so is a quartz crystal. You're - you're a diamond, more precious than any other, proof that incredible things come in small packages ... and made from the hardest substance on Earth," he added with a smile. She finished handing him his mug and they sipped their bitter wake-up juice in silence for a moment. "Better than a diamond," he mused, mostly to himself as his eyes drifted off to stare unseeing at the floor. "Men kill for diamonds, they die for them, but none ever come back for them." Alex let his words roll around in her head. She was far too tired to really appreciate them, but she knew a good line when she heard it.

"What _was_ it like, over there?" she asked. He shrugged one shoulder.

"Can't remember, not really. It's for the best, I suppose. It would make it hard to enjoy this life if you were constantly remembering that better place."

"It is better, though?"

"Oh, yes, that I do remember. No pain, no fear, all my questions were answered, all my doubts laid to rest."

"So, why'd you come back?" Alex asked, looking down into her mug to keep him from reading her eyes. She had called him back from paradise, called him back into this festering sore of murder and greed and pain and filth - because she didn't want to be alone, because she couldn't stand to lose another one. She didn't hear him move across the kitchen, but he was suddenly standing in front of her, close enough to feel the heat of his body.

"I get to spend eternity there," he said softly, leaning down to catch her eyes like he so often did, drawing her up with him as he straightened. "I only have the rest of my life to spend with you."

"My God, you can be a smooth talker when you want to be," Alex said, her cynical, angry at the world smirk trying to make an appearance. It ended up being a lot softer than she'd intended. Bobby smiled back and reached up to brush the hair out of her eyes, his fingers tracing the contour of her cheek as he brought his hand back down. "You really shouldn't do that," she said, but she made no attempt to move away.

"Do what?" Bobby asked. "This?" He cupped her face again, his thumb sliding across her lips, a feather-light touch. He leaned toward her, then hung back, his dark eyes searching hers. "Do - do you really want to me to ... stop?" That small voice in the back of her mind was mumbling something like, 'Yeah, you better stop, I guess,' putting up a _big_ fight about it. She reached back and set her coffee cup on the counter, then smiled and closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his. There were no fireworks, to weak-kneed, out of breath heart palpitations, just an overwhelming sense of peace and harmony, a warmth that enveloped her from head to toe, as if everything was right with the world.

They broke the kiss and she stepped into his arms, leaning her head against his chest. His heart beat steadily against her cheek and she felt her eyelids coming down, too heavy to fight against. She yawned.

"I told you I'd fall asleep," she said, trying to muster the energy to step away from his warm, teddy bear-like comfort. Instead, she snuggled a little closer. "This just feels so good."

"Better than Sledge?" She could feel the jealous edge in his words rumble all through her body as he spoke. Opening her eyes, she stepped back and looked up into his face. He wouldn't meet her eyes, but she could read it in the little lines around his mouth - he _was_ jealous.

"Well, he isn't _quite_ so tall," Alex said, watching his frown deepen into a scowl. "I'm joking. Of course it's better than with Sledge. I don't love him, I love you." _Wow, I said it again_, she thought a with a girlish grin. She had the sudden urge to run from room to room, yelling it at the top of her lungs. Too many sappy romance movies, she decided, firmly squashing the urge like a big, annoying bug. He didn't quite look convinced, though. "Bobby, sweetheart, I was so tired I'd have fallen asleep against a light pole." His frown eased into a shy smile.

"Did you call me ... sweetheart?"

"I - yeah, I guess I did," she said. "You don't like sweetheart? What about pumpkin? Or precious? Puddin'? Pookey?"

"Those are my only choices, sweetheart or some random word from the P section of the dictionary?" He laughed, that full, rich laugh she hadn't heard from him in so long. "Sweetheart is fine, just ... unexpected. Twenty-four hours ago, we were Goren and Eames, now we're sweetheart and - and honeybunch."

"You call me honeybunch and you can sleep on the couch," Alex said, her lips twisted into a wry smile. Bobby pressed his knuckles to his lips, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Hmm, I'm going to have to ... give this some thought." She gave him a playful shove toward the doorway.

"Why don't you shower while I fix breakfast?" she suggested. "We can discuss pet names while we eat."

"You don't need any help?"

"I can manage, I think. You want toast or frozen hash browns?"

"Wheat bread?" She nodded. "Hash browns, then." She laughed.

"I knew that. Go. Shower. Towels are in the hall closet." He started that direction, then swiveled around.

"You don't want to - to join me?" She wasn't sure what showed in her face, but the words were hardly out of his mouth before he was apologizing. "I - I shouldn't have - Sorry, Eames, I - "

"So, we're back to Goren and Eames, are we?" she said quietly. He fell silent. For a moment, they just stared at each other.

"I think we need to talk," they said simultaneously.

* * *

"Well, that could have gone worse," Alex said with a smile, handing Bobby a bar of soap so he could wash her back.

"I don't know," he said, his large hands gliding across her slippery skin. "I think the Treaty of Versailles was less complicated."

"What's complicated about it?" She turned around, letting the shower spray beat against her shoulders, and lathered up his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. "We treat each other as we always have, with kindness and respect, we acknowledge that it is impossible to keep personal and professional relationships separate, but will try to minimize the disruption one may cause to the other -"

"Did you get Carver to write this up for you? 'In the case of one party's failure to appropriately transport dining implements to a designated sanitizing area, see sub-paragraph twenty-three ...'" Alex laughed, running her hands up the sides of his neck.

"If remembering to put the dishes in the sink is all we fight about, we'll be blessed." That distant, thinking stillness settled over him, his hands coming to rest on her hips. She let her hands slowly wander down his chest, letting the sensation of soap suds and stiff, curly hair glide along her fingers, waiting for him to speak.

"I suppose fighting is ... unavoidable," he said after a moment. His hands tightened around her waist, a small reflex action to whatever thoughts were currently occupying that marvelous brain of his. "I don't ever want to - to fight with you."

"Oh, come on," Alex said, "if we never fight, how can we have glorious make-up sex?" He smiled slightly, just the effect she'd hoped for. "Disagreements are a part of life. We're _going_ to have them, we just have to deal with them like adults. You can't try to psychoanalyze me and keep your own feeling locked up tighter than the gold repository - Don't look at me like that, you do and you know it. In return, I'll tell you if I need space, and I will, but I will always come back, I will never abandon you."

"You can't know that, Eames."

"If you can come back from the dead, I can do this. That's a promise." She grinned. "Now, wash my hair, I'm starting to get pruny."

* * *

Alex slipped into bed, dressed in only a thin, sky blue silk camisole and matching panties, her hair still warm from the blow dryer. She lay back into the pillow with a sigh, staring up at the wedge of golden light spilling out of the bathroom and across the ceiling, listening to the rhythmic _scritch, scritch ... swish_ as Bobby worked on shaving that overgrown stubble back to its normal length. _Scritch, scritch ... swish_. Oh, God, was she tired. _Scritch, scritch ... swish_.

Alex opened her eyes. She hadn't even been aware that she'd closed them. The room was dark, cold, empty. Climbing out of bed, she shivered and silently made her way into the living room. Bobby was sitting on the couch, his head cradled in his hands. She tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. Something was wrong. Hesitantly, she reached out, her fingertips brushing his shoulder.

"You can't save me, Eames." His voice was hollow, lifeless. "Your cat wants out, but the hounds are close, the hunter knows you. Accept the choice, do not fight, and trust the chimaera. You can't save me. You tried, I know you did, but it wasn't enough. All your love wasn't enough." He looked up now, his face replaced by a darkness, an empty hole that was slowly consuming the rest of him.

She sat up with a gasp, her heart pounding loud in her ears. The light was still on in the bathroom. Swinging her legs out of bed, she padded across the carpet, hesitating outside the door. This was stupid. It was just a nightmare. He was fine.

The door swung inward - Bobby looked down at her with one eyebrow raised, wearing only his shark boxers, his face still dotted with flecks of shaving gel. She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

"You okay?" he asked, a concerned frown darkening his brow.

"Yeah," she said, giving a slight nod, then more vehemently, "yeah, I'm fine, just making sure you hadn't fallen asleep in the sink." She rubbed one hand along her forehead. What a strange dream. She glanced up to him find him still watching her. "Try not to wake me when you come to bed," she said, turning away. He caught her gently by the arm.

"What's wrong, Eames?" Uh oh, he was using his, '_I know you're hiding something, and you're going to tell me, or else_,' tone of voice. Most of the time, she'd have waited for the 'or else', just to see him work, but she was too damn tired.

"It was nothing, okay, just a - a really weird nightmare. I just had to check and see if you were all right."

"A nightmare, a - about me?" She described the dream as best as she could remember. He nodded several times, slowly, and when she was finished, he turned back to the sink, rinsed the shave gel off his face and turned out the light. In the darkness, he took her hand and led her to the bedroom, where the morning light fought to invade their twilit haven, seeping beneath the curtains. They climbed into bed and she snuggled up against him, her slight figure a perfect fit against his. "I'm sorry," he said at last.

"For what?"

"For depending on you so much, for - for making you shoulder the responsibility of - of me." Alex propped herself up on her elbow and frowned at him.

"Bobby, you're no burden, I assure you."

"Yes, I am," he said with a self-depreciating laugh. "And you're so afraid that you'll let me down, that you won't be enough, that it's giving you nightmares. 'You can't save me,' remember?"

"It was a stupid dream," she said, lying back down and staring up at the ceiling. "I don't even own a cat. And what the hell is a chimaera?"

"A mythological, fire-breathing beast with the head and foreparts of a lion, another head and the rear of a goat, and a serpent or dragon for a tail," he said. "Also can refer to any fantastical creature that is a compilation of two or more real animals. And it's a group of really ugly, cartilaginous deep sea fish. And a type of car."

"Okay, okay, thank you, Encyclopedia Brown," Alex said. "I rest my case - It was a stupid dream. After all, how can I trust a monster, fish or car?" She felt him shrug. "You may be right, though," she conceded after a moment. "I do worry that something will happen. Ever since Nicole ... She seemed to get to you, worse than any of the others, and every time she slipped through our fingers, I watched you fade farther into the darkness, and there wasn't anything I could do."

"You were there, Alex, that was all I needed," he said, leaning his cheek against her head. "The darkness isn't scary as long as you have a beacon, a shining light to lead you back home. You're my light."

"Your light," Alex said with a smile, her eyes drifting shut. "I like that."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	38. Chapter 38

Author's note - Grrr, reading _Harry Potter and Half-Blood Prince_ is really eating into my writing time. Luckily, I'm two-thirds of the way through it, so I can get back on track soon. Please, if you've read it already, don't tell me anything!

ElizaJane - Oh, nasty, nasty stuff indeed (_evil grin_).

TrinityWildcat - It may be a shoe ... then again, it might be a minivan full of nuns, you never can tell.

Strawberry-ksc - Oooh, we're very observant, aren't we, lol. I did say 'the sequel', and you're right, I am planning a bit of something, but once _Release_ is finished, I have to take a break, so a (the) sequel will have to wait a while.

justawriter - Oh, I wish it was raining. We've had several 90+ days and more are on the way. (_groans_) We did get a nice thunder storm out of it, though.

netherfield - You're welcome! Thanks for reading it.

Adina-Anne - Well thank you. I do have a tendency to babble, glad I've managed to babble skillfully, though. I'm glad you like it.

KendraC - Thanks! I didn't see that - I don't have cable or satelite (_gasp_!), just what comes through the air. It's like, six channels, but we get L&O, so I'm not complaining (too much). That sounds really intriguing. They _should_ put that on the show.

Sarah - Wow. Lol, glad you like it.

One-Smart-MoFu - Hmmm. Short answer; Yes. Long answer; I'm not a witch, nor Wiccan, though I have learned a great deal in the course of researching this story and have become more in tune with nature and the Earth. I have experienced too many things that defy rational explanation to discount anything. Most accurately, I would say that I do not disbelieve it.

* * *

Alex jumped awake to the piercing scream of her cell phone. She was lying on her left side, Bobby spooned behind her, his breath warm on her shoulder. Bobby's arm tightened around her waist and he groaned into the back of her neck. 

"It _cannot_ be that time already," he said, his words muffled by her hair. She grabbed the phone of her nightstand.

"Eames," she answered, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes so she could read the clock. It was 2:25 in the afternoon, just a little over seven hours since they went to bed.

"Raum is starting to stir," Munch said by way of greeting. He sounded as tired as she felt. Wasn't sleep supposed to make you feel better? "It'll probably be another hour before he's conscious enough for questioning, but I didn't know how long you'd need to get down here."

"This is good, John, thanks," she said, sitting up and swinging her legs out of bed. She grunted in surprise as a pair of large hands grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back into the circle of Bobby's arms.

"Alex, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Alex said, "just kicked the dresser. We'll see you in a while." She hung up and glanced back at her partner, who was intently studying the way her camisole moved as his hand slid up underneath it, his fingers playing along her spine. "Looks like _somebody_ woke up in a good mood." He smiled slightly, but didn't look up.

"I had a dream," he said, his deep, resonating voice ground down even deeper by sleep. "I was in love with a beautiful woman, and she was in love with me, and we fell asleep in each others arms, and - and when I woke, you were still there." She leaned down to kiss him, just as his cell phone rang.

"Perfect timing, John," Alex muttered.

"Goren ... Yes. All right ... I - I will." He hung up and gave Alex a bemused look. "He said to put ice on your foot."

"What for?"

"To keep the swelling down, I imagine." He was grinning openly now.

"Swelling...?" It clicked. "Where I kicked the dresser. I'm gonna - " She shook her head. "C'mon, we better get out of here." She started to slide off the bed, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back into his embrace.

"Hang on," he said, "I think we were in the middle of something."

"Oh, really?" she said, raising one eyebrow. He planted a slow, soft kiss on her lips. "Mmm, yes, I remember now," she said with a smile as he drew back. He kissed her again, long and lingering, one hand gently stroking her breast through the thin silk. She moaned into his mouth and he groaned back, but then pulled away, standing up and walking across the room.

"Pancakes or waffles?" he asked, picking up his denim shirt and jeans from where they'd landed on the floor that morning.

"You have _got_ to be joking," Alex said.

"French toast then?" She shook her head.

"What are you doing?" He shrugged into his shirt, concentrating on lining up the buttons straight instead of looking at her.

"Getting dressed, which you might want to think about doing, too." She grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He caught it and tossed it back on the foot of the bed. "Listen, Alex, there is nothing in this world or the next that I would rather do than stay here in bed with you, but - but we agreed that we needed time to ... adjust, before having sex. This can't turn into just a physical thing, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, but we were just kissing."

"Just kissing. _Just_ kissing, she says." He shook his head. "You have no idea what you do to me." He shifted uncomfortably and she noticed the tightness across the front of his boxers.

"Oh, I see your ... point," she said, trying to keep the smirk out of her voice. He gave her a dark look, a hint of amusement in his hooded eyes.

"We probably shouldn't violate the terms of out relationship before the ink has even dried," he said, heading for the bathroom.

"They're really more guidelines than actual rules, you know," she called after him.

"Get dressed," he replied with a laugh, closing the bathroom door behind him. Alex flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was right, damn it, although this had to be the crappiest way to end an otherwise perfect few hours. Breakfast together, an intimate, yet innocent enough shower, waking in each other's arms, and now - get dressed and go interrogate the bad guy. Or well, at least it wasn't a total loss.

Alex slipped into a clean pair of charcoal gray slacks, tossing the matching suit jacket onto the bed while she tried to decide if she felt like red or blue today. She grabbed the blue top and pulled it on, then headed for the kitchen to brew up another batch of instant coffee. The little crystals glittered at her from inside the jar, but she put it back in the cupboard unused. She wanted real coffee, the kind you paid an arm and a leg for and actually had to go inside a building to get. She headed back into the bedroom, stopping outside the bathroom.

"Hey, Bobby, why don't we grab something to eat on our way?" she called through the door. "That coffee shop you go to when it's your turn to buy, what's that called? Cafe Oasis? They have the best raspberry scones. We could even swing by your place so you can get a change of clothes. If you show up shaved and smelling like my body wash, but wearing the same things you left in, people are going to talk." As if they weren't talking already. Alex had always dismissed it as idle gossip, but she'd overheard enough in the women's restroom to know that her and Bobby 'hooking up' would not surprise many. She suddenly realized that he had not answered. "Bobby, did you hear me? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Eames. I - I'll just ... be a minute."

"Oh, give me a break," she said, trying the doorknob and finding it unlocked. She let the door swing open. He was standing at the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. "You are not 'fine', Goren, and pursuant to paragraph seven of article one -" He smiled, barely, but it was just a movement of his lips; his eyes remained distant and sad. "- you can't keep me out. And if you wouldn't give in and make love to me, don't expect me to give in and let you keep whatever is tormenting you bottled up inside." He closed his eyes and let his head hang.

"When I'm alone," he said after a moment, "when it's quiet, I can see them, I can ... hear them, crying, begging me to - to stop." He swallowed hard. "I know it wasn't my fault, but they don't. I'm afraid to go home, Alex. What if I run into Miss Anderson?"

"I spoke to her Bobby; she's not going to press charges."

"That's not what I - I couldn't bear to see her look at me the way she looked at me when I - I -" Alex reached out and place a supporting hand on his arm.

"It was a really crappy thing that happened - to the _both_ of you. And yeah, she's going to carry that emotional scar with her for a long time, maybe forever -"

"Gee, Eames, for some reason that's not making me feel better."

"Do you want to feel better, or do you want to hear the truth? She got hurt, but she needs to see that it wasn't _you_ who did it to her, she needs to see how much you're hurting, too, and then she can start to heal."

"Is it too late for you to make me feel better?" he asked with a wry half-smile.

"That _was_ supposed to make you feel better," she replied with a smirk. "We still need to decide what to tell her, should we see her. For some reason, I don't think evil warlocks and incubus curses are going to cut it."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	39. Chapter 39

Author's note - Thank you for your patience, my wonderful readers. I apologize for making you wait so often. I seem to be having a real problem with getting this next part just right. I want it to be a classic Goren and Eames interrogation, but I'm not Rene Balcer (or whoever) and I'm having trouble making feel right. Oh, well, I'll keep at it. Hope you enjoy this one!

* * *

Alex sipped her rich, steaming coffee while Bobby sat in the passenger seat beside her, his elbow resting on the bottom edge of the window, knuckles pressed to his lips, as he stared out at the entrance to his apartment building.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" she asked again.

"No, that's all right, I can ... manage." He didn't move. Reluctantly, she set her cup in the cup holder between them and unbuckled her seatbelt.

"C'mon," she said, checking traffic before she opened her door into the street, "I want to see if you've got any new books I can borrow." He laughed, a short, tense sound. They both knew that she would never voluntarily read anything in his library, but it got him out of the car. "It's three o'clock in the afternoon, she's probably at work." _Or too traumatized to leave her apartment_, she added silently, though from the look he gave her, she might as well have said it out loud.

They climbed the front steps in silence, slipped inside and started up the stairs to Bobby's third floor apartment. "What did you make of Tarak?" she asked after a moment, glancing over her shoulder at him. "There was something - you got that look. What was it?" He paused on the step below her, wearing that thinking frown again.

"You remember how he said he worked for Animal Control?" Alex nodded. "I've seen him working at the Library, shelving books."

"So? Maybe he has a second job." Bobby shrugged one shoulder.

"He was wearing three hundred dollar shoes," Bobby pointed out. "His shirt was tailored to fit him."

"Two jobs," Alex countered. "He can afford nice clothes."

"Did you see the scars on his left forearm? They were old, faded, but looked like ... claw marks."

"He works in Animal Control, Bobby. Animals have claws." She wasn't necessarily defending Tarak - there was something about the guy that she didn't trust - but so far nothing Bobby had said was proof of anything.

"There was something else up on that roof, Alex, and it came with him." She didn't say anything for a moment.

"I almost saw it," she said. "It was like the wind - every time I tried to look at it, it wasn't there."

"Everyone else was seeing it, too, you - you heard them. It's wasn't a trick of the light."

"Then what was it?" He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his eyes shifting from her face to the landing above them, and she watched his face shut down. She glanced back, into the pale face of Katrina Anderson. Smoothing her jacket, Alex mounted the last few steps, stopping on the landing. Katrina didn't even seem to see her, her eyes never leaving Bobby. "Miss Anderson," Alex said, making her jump, "just who we were hoping to see." A complete lie, but ... oh well. "We thought you might like to know that the person responsible for the situation you and Detective Goren found yourselves in has been caught and will be dealt with."

"I know," Katrina said, her voice barely more than a whisper, her eyes finding Bobby once more. He hadn't moved.

"You do?" Alex asked. "How?"

"A detective called this morning, Detective Tutuola, I think. He explained what happened."

"Oh. Yes. Of course," Alex said. Would have been nice if Fin had told _them_ what was going on. Katrina watched Bobby for a moment more, then stepped past Alex and slowly made her way down the stairs toward him. She stopped on the step above him, so that they were nearly eye-to-eye.

"I'm sorry that I thought it was you," she said, "I was just so ... I should have known that you would never do something like that."

"I'm sorry I got you involved," Bobby said quietly, "I'm sorry I walked past your door." _I'm sorry I didn't eat my gun as soon as I realized something was wrong._ Alex blinked at the sudden strange thought. It had sounded like Bobby's voice, but ... he would never even consider suicide. What was she thinking? There was an awkward silence between Katrina and Bobby.

"Well," Alex said, "I guess we better let you go. Thank you for your time and understanding, Miss Anderson." Katrina glanced up at her, then nodded to Bobby before continuing down the stairs. She stopped on the next landing.

"I always felt safe living here," she said, "knowing that one of New York's finest was living just upstairs. I still do." She turned the corner and disappeared. Bobby climbed the last few stairs to the landing where Alex waited.

"That wasn't so bad," Alex said, receiving an 'I'd rather have eaten broken glass' look from her partner. "I wonder what Fin told her."

* * *

The SVU squad room was bustling with unfamiliar faces as Alex and Bobby walked in. It was almost like a different place, so full of light and sound and motion. It was Alex who spotted Munch seated at his desk, bent over a big, leather-bound book, an expensive looking silver pen in hand. He didn't look up until she and Bobby had come to a stop beside his desk.

"Good, you're here," he said, setting down the pen and closing the book. "Raum's been moved -"

"What is that?" Bobby asked, reaching out to run the fingers of one hand over the blank cover of the book. His other hand was clutching his brown binder tightly to his side, as if never wanted to let go of it again.

"Do you have to touch everything?" Munch asked, picking the book up and slipping it into the top drawer of his desk. He glanced around the room, then stood and leaned toward them. "That is my Book of Shadows. It's kind of a magickal diary/recipe book. Everything I've learned is in that book."

"Really?" Bobby asked, raising his eye brows. Alex laughed.

"A book you haven't read; now I _have_ seen everything."

"Where's your partner?" Bobby asked suddenly, tapping his fingers against the edge of the unoccupied desk.

"He said he was going home," Munch answered. frowning slightly. Alex was used to her partner's seeming random line of reasoning. She quickly jumped aboard his train of thought.

"He called Katrina Anderson this morning," she said. Munch nodded.

"I asked him to," he said. "I figured you might run into her at some point, and decided it was best if all the victims were told the same story, just in case."

"What story?"

"You know, just your average 'murdered scientist working for secret agency, chemical weapons stolen, one heroic detective saves the city but is unknowingly contaminated' type of story."

"Ooh, we've already used that one this week," Alex said with a snarky quirk to her lips. "Did they really buy it?"

"Miss Anderson did. She was so desperate for answers, she'd have believed it was aliens. The other two were harder to convince. I'll have Fin check up on them in a day or two to make sure."

"You're having him do it because you can't lie," Bobby said. Munch took a slow breath, hesitating.

"I'm having him do it because I _prefer_ not to lie. I can lie, when I have to. Say, how's Detective Sledge?"

"How should we know?" Bobby asked.

"We haven't seen him since dawn. Why?"

"Well, it's just ... You two haven't noticed any ... side effects, have you?" Alex arched one eyebrow.

"Side effects?"

"Yes, the powers that we were channeling can have unforeseen consequences. Any unusual feelings, strange dreams, weird things happening?" Alex glanced at Bobby, remembering her dream. It hadn't been that strange, just your typical fear of inadequacy nightmare. She shook her head.

"No, nothing like that. Will there be?" Munch shrugged.

"They're called 'unforeseen' consequences for a reason. C'mon," Munch said, motioning for them to follow with a jerk of his head. "Raum was eagerly awaiting your arrival. It'd be a crime to keep him waiting." They made their way down the hall to the observation room overlooking the empty gray box where Raum was seated, his hands cuffed in front of him and resting on the scarred metal table top.

"Are cuffs going to hold him?" Alex asked.

"Oh yeah," Munch replied. "Without his magick, he's practically harmless." They stood a moment and watched Raum. He certainly didn't look like someone who could have caused them so much trouble. His shaggy hair was an unremarkable shade of dark brown. He wore a plain, inexpensive pale gray polo shirt and black slacks. Small, round, wire-framed glasses still masked the true color of his eyes and gave him an intelligent, observant look.

"Harmless," Alex repeated. She took a calming breath. "Let's see what this guy's made of, shall we?"

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	40. Chapter 40

Author's note - Woohoo! Forty chapters! Don't worry, it's almost over. I'm aiming for fifty. Thanks for the reviews and encouragement; it means a lot.

Angelfirenze - Allow me to apologize in advance for this next chapter. Cliffhangers just come naturally.

KendraC - Yes, there were four - the suicide, the two who worked with the sketch artists, and Miss Anderson. As for the rest, just wait and see.

* * *

As Alex entered the interrogation room, Raum rose to his feet, the chair squealing across the cement floor. An officer was at her back immediately, but she motioned him back outside. Raum smiled and nodded courteously.

"Good day, Detective Eames," he said, his silky, sibilant voice giving her a slight chill. "You look tired. Have trouble sleeping?"

"It's been a long day," she replied. God, it felt more like a week. "Please, have a seat." She took one of the two chairs facing away from the two-way mirror. "Mr. Raum, do you know why you are here?"

"Of course," he replied, leaning back in the uncomfortable metal chair like it was a lay-z-boy. "What time is it, if I may ask?" Alex glanced at her watch.

"It's a quarter to four." Raum looked slightly disappointed.

"Shame," he said quietly, then to her, "Will Detective Goren be joining us?" He glanced toward the mirror. "I was very much hoping to speak with both of you."

"He'll be along shortly," Alex said. "I wanted to have a few words first. I was hoping you could clear up a few things while you still possessed the ability to speak." Raum's eyebrows lifted and an amused smile lighted his face.

"Is Detective Goren really _that_ angry? I suppose I overestimated his ability to take a joke."

"Is that what this was, a joke?" Alex asked, keeping her voice calm and level, though inside she was seething. A joke! If Bobby didn't kill him before the Council got there, and if Elliot didn't, she sure as hell would.

"I found it very entertaining, didn't you?" Alex couldn't keep the cold fury out of her eyes, so she didn't even try. Raum's cheery smile faded. "I told you already, Detective Eames, this was a matter of revenge. The fact that it was so much fun was just an added bonus." Raum glanced away as the door opened, but Alex kept her gaze fixed on his unremarkable, unassuming face. She could have passed him on the street a hundred times and never noticed. He smiled warmly. "Ah, Detective Goren, how good of you to join us." Bobby walked behind her, placed his thick leather binder on the table, grabbed the empty chair and turned it around so that he straddled it.

"Tell me, Raum, Detective Munch says that you won't lie. A - a nasty son-of-a-bitch like you - I find that hard to believe."

"He is correct," Raum said. "Nothing but the truth as I know it ever passes my lips."

"And why - why is that ... exactly?"

"If you were an electrician, wouldn't you be careful when working with electricity, Detective?"

"Of course." Raum leaned forward, his voice low when he spoke.

"I juggle lightning bolts, so I have to be extra careful." Bobby stood up and began to pace the floor behind Raum's chair. The evil warlock watched him in the mirror, but kept stealing glances at Alex. She just sat back and watched the show, waiting until it was her turn again.

"I still don't buy it," Bobby said, leaning down and peering into Raum's face. "You _always_ tell the truth? Isn't that ... inconvenient?"

"It can be," Raum admitted, "but it beats walking up as a toad." Bobby made a thoughtful noise and went back to his pacing.

"So, Raum, you're a warlock? You can do magick? You can turn into a - a crow?"

"Yes, to all three questions. But you already knew that."

"Is it true that you killed -" He walked to his notebook and peered inside. "- Kia Lighthawk, also known as Amanda Harris?"

"If you mean the little witch from yesterday, then yes. I didn't happen to catch her name."

"You admit to killing her?"

"Why not? Name one of your prisons that could hold me once this herbal cocktail wears off. You can't keep me drugged forever." Bobby went on as if he hadn't spoken.

"And you killed her with magick?"

"Of course. How else do you explain what happened?"

"You freely admit to working magick?"

"Yes, already," Raum said, a hint of annoyance showing through at last.

"We ran your prints, you know," Bobby said suddenly. "We're having one hell of a time figuring out who you really are. Care to help us out?"

"Not really." Bobby was back down in his face again.

"What is your real name?" he demanded. Raum laughed.

"I may not lie, Detective Goren, but that doesn't mean I have to answer." Bobby straightened up and started to turn away, then grabbed Raum by the front of his shirt and hauled his smug ass out of the chair. Alex stood and walked around the table as her partner slammed the smaller man against the wall. The sight of his feet dangling a good six inches off the floor brought a hard smile to her lips.

"Who are you?" Bobby asked again. Alex glanced behind them at the sound of the door opening, but it was just Munch coming in to join them.

"Take your hands off me," Raum said, his calm facade wearing thinner, allowing annoyance, fear and anger to show through. "This is police brutality, you can't do this - "

"Oh, are there rules now?" Alex asked. His eyes widened slightly.

"My lawyer is going to - "

"Who said you get a lawyer?" Bobby countered. Alex stepped up next to her partner, her head tipped back to meet Raum's eyes. They were a pale, greenish-gray color.

"Allowing you a lawyer would suggest that we have arrested you, filed papers, filled out the necessary forms ... but you know what -" She shrugged. "- I just didn't feel like it. So as far as the legal system is concerned, you are not here. In fact, you don't even seem to exist, so I can't see the point of allowing you to call your lawyer."

"So you hold me without cause for how long?"

"Just until a representative of the Council gets here," Munch said. Raum not only went pale, his skin turned a nice greenish-gray color to match his eyes. "Oh, good, you do have some idea of what they'll do to you." Raum's eyes darted to Alex.

"You can't let them take me - what they do, it's - it's inhuman."

"So are you," Alex replied coldly. "It's the rule of three, remember - whatever you do shall return to you threefold, be it good or evil."

"And you're about as evil as we come," Munch added. "I can't think of a single reason not to turn you over to the council." Something dark and predatory moved behind Raum's eyes as his Teflon exterior slid back into place.

"I think we both know that's not true, Detective," Raum said smoothly. He glanced at Bobby. "What I was saying earlier about juggling lightning - when you're only playing with lightning bugs, you don't have to be nearly as careful. Do you mind?" He glanced pointedly at the floor. Bobby dragged him back to the table and dropped him into his chair. "Thank you." He tugged his shirt back down where it belonged as best he could with his cuffed hands. "You see, what could not possibly have escaped Detective Munch, is that if I am handed over to the Council, all the power I have amassed - and it is a staggering amount - will be lost into whatever Hell the Council decided to damn me to. If, however, he were to retrieve a certain book from locker 12D at Grand Central, and if he were to read a certain incantation, and then if he were to kill me himself - "

"Why are you telling us this?" Munch demanded. "No one wants to hear - "

"Tsk tsk tsk, what a liar you are." Munch stared down at him, his face pale, lips pressed into a thin line, then he turned and stalked from the room. Alex followed. Ahead of her, Munch pushed his way through a small group of officers talking to a blonde woman with a briefcase - probably somebody's lawyer - and caught up with him halfway to the main doors.

"What is going on?" she asked, grabbing him by the arm. He stopped in his tracks, his head tilted back and eyes closed behind his smoky glasses. Alex stood there, her hand on his arm, and waited.

"I am a liar," Munch said at last, "more than he knows." He glanced at Alex out of the corner of his eye. "His power, Alex ... I am tempted, especially knowing where that book is ... but, no, I can't. No matter how good my intentions, that kind of power would find ways to work evil within me. He must go to the Council." He said this with an air of finality, but Alex could see the indecision in his eyes.

"Why don't you take a break," Alex suggested. "Get some rest, coffee, valium, -" This brought a smile to his lips. "- let us work on Raum some more. Trust me, Bobby's got this guy just where he wants him."

* * *

Bobby was pacing again as Alex let herself back into the room. She strolled over to her chair, quickly taking in the scene as she sat. Raum was pale and harassed-looking, a slight scowl darkening his unremarkable face.

"Tell me again, where is Nicole?"

"I don't know." He was sounding very irritated now.

"You're sure she's dead, though?"

"She died in my arms, Detective, what do you think?"

"I think you're lying, I think she's alive and - and using you -"

"I don't lie," Raum said, raising his voice.

"I don't believe you," Bobby responded, raising his more. He bent down beside Raum, speaking in almost a whisper. "Make me believe, tell me something that I - I can believe. Tell me why you put this curse upon me ... the real reason."

"You want to know why I'm here?" He sat back in his chair, his chin raised defiantly. "Munich, April, a little antique shop, an old puzzle box - am I ringing any bells?" Alex glanced up at Bobby, who's face had gone strangely expressionless. "I wanted that box, Detective, but you got there first. I let it go then, but I never forgot. As I told our lovely Detective Eames, I have a penchant for revenge, and once I learned who it was that had killed poor Nicole, well, I couldn't resist."

"This is about a damned wooden box?" Alex asked, not quite sure she was following. Neither Raum nor Bobby answered her. "That's - that's so ... stupid. That's the dumbest reason I've ever heard."

"But it's the truth," Raum said, giving her a smug smile. "It must be almost four o'clock by now. It's a pity I slept so long - I would have liked more time to play." He suddenly leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the table. "Do you like surprises, Detectives?" The words had hardly left his lips when the door opened and a disgruntled-looking Munch stepped half into the room.

"There's a woman out here claiming to be Raum's lawyer," he said, shooting a hard look at Raum. "She's threatening to go to the justice department if she isn't allowed to see her client immediately." Bobby and Alex exchanged similar looks. It seemed Raum had more than doves up his sleeves.

"Well, by all means, show her in," Bobby said, walking around to have a seat beside Alex. "Oh, and we'll need a - another chair." He pulled his binder around and began to thumb through it, as if some new information might have magically appeared inside it since he last looked. Alex glanced back at the door as an officer carried in another uncomfortable metal chair and set it next to Raum. He started out the door, then stepped back to allow in a briefcase-toting woman in a well-cut dark blue suit, the same one Alex had seen talking to the officers in the squad room earlier, only ... only ...

Alex gasped. Beside her, Bobby glanced up from his notebook. He leaped to his feet, his chair flying over backward and hitting the cement floor with a clatter. The lawyer stopped, regarding them with a stone-cold lack of interest. Her blonde hair was close-cropped, a severe pair of gold-rimmed glasses framing hard, dark eyes, but there was no mistake. It was Nicole Wallace.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	41. Chapter 41

Author's Note - Oh man, I hate summer. It's been upper 80's to mid 90's lately, too hot to go outside, too hot to sleep at night. I've been keeping grave robber's hours - up 'till almost dawn and in bed until after 2 in the afternoon - it's the only time cool enough to sleep. Luckily, there's little to do at three am but write, so this chapter ended up a bit long - not that you'll mind, I bet. Hopefully, it's not too confusing - I _was_ writing it at three am, after all.

KendraC - Don't be so sure - I've still got a few tricks up my sleeves, lol.

Shellster - Crap-apples! I love that! And yes, I do have at least one sequel in the planning stages already.

blucougar57 - Glad to hear from you and that you decided to stick with it. It's not exactly your traditional L & O fic.

Strawberry-ksc - Thank you! I'm glad I could actually surprise somebody.

Angelfirenze - Mwa ha ha ha! I appreciate the water balloons - it's been in the nineties this past week.

* * *

"Is something wrong?" the officer asked, eyeing Bobby like he'd lost his mind.

"Nicole," Bobby growled, the sound deep in his chest. She blinked, then set her briefcase on the table.

"Detectives Goren and Eames, I presume," she said, her accent running a bit thinner, but still present. "My name is Satrina Anastasius." She held out her hand, but they both just stared at her until she let it drop back to her side. "Very well. I insist that you release my client immediately." Alex recovered from shock first.

"I'm sorry, you're who?" she asked. She waved the uneasy officer out of the room. He left reluctantly.

"Satrina Anastasius, Mr. Kier's attorney."

"Kier?" Bobby repeated. Ms. Anastasius regarded them in icy silence for a moment. She looked so much like Nicole, sounded so much like her, but there was something ... different, something ... off about her. This wasn't the same the woman who had taunted and tormented them in the past.

"Mr. Leland Kier, the man seated directly to my right." Alex looked at Raum. He was scowling at his lawyer.

"My name is Raum," he said angrily. Ms. Anastasius ignored him and opened her briefcase with a double click of the latches. She pulled out a thick manila file folder and dropped it on the table between Bobby and Alex.

"His medical records." Bobby flipped the file open, glanced at it, and drew back as through stung.

"He has schizophrenia?" Alex pulled the file toward herself and quickly scanned the top page.

"Paranoid schizophrenia," Ms. Anastasius said. "He believes that he is some sort of sorcerer, being hunted by an organization called the Council."

"_He_ is sitting right here," Raum said, sounding highly peeved. "And I'm a warlock, not a sorcerer."

"I rest my case," Ms. Anastasius said, sitting stiffly on the edge of her seat beside Raum. Alex glanced up at Bobby, who still looked quite shell-shocked.

"If you'll excuse us a moment," Alex said, touching her partner briefly on the forearm to get his attention. He followed her silently out the door. "Can you believe - The nerve of that - What a load of bull - Bobby, you're not buying this crap, are you?" He headed into the observation room without answering. On the other side of the mirror, Raum and his lawyer sat silently, neither speaking to, nor even looking at each other.

"It sure looks like her, doesn't it?" Bobby asked after a moment.

"Yeah, it must have taken him forever to find a lawyer with such an uncanny resemblance."

"What if she's right, Alex?"

"Look, Bobby, I know you have a ... soft spot ... when it comes to the mentally ill - " She had been going to say 'weakness', but thought better of it. " - but Raum is not one of them. He's an evil warlock, he - "

"What?" Bobby asked suddenly. "What did he do?"

"The curse," she said, as if it couldn't have been more obvious.

"We can't be sure that was him." Alex crossed her arms over her chest. He was right. Raum had gloated over the phone, but that didn't prove anything. "Actually, the more I think about it, I - I don't think Raum _did_ send the curse. He doesn't act like a man without passion, or - or he wouldn't be ... enjoying this so much."

"What about on the roof?" Alex asked. "He attacked us, set us and Bishop on fire, and Bishop fought him as a crow."

"There was a crow, yes, and we were attacked, yes, but can we be sure it was _that_ man?"

"What about when we were in the circle? He hit Olivia with a metal pipe."

"Which proves he's crazy, not magickal." Alex paced to the other side of the room and back.

"Just before he attacked Olivia, he reached out toward the edge of the circle, and lightning shot from his fingertips. You can't tell me that's a symptom of paranoid schizophrenia."

"With all that was going on, can you really be sure that's what you saw? How do you know that's not the reaction anyone would have gotten when reaching toward that circle?"

"Well, why don't we ask John, I'm sure he'd know." She headed out into the squad room. Munch wasn't at his desk. A quick walk proved his wasn't in the break room, or the crash room. She dialed his cell number. No answer. "I told him to rest, not disappear," Alex muttered. She joined Bobby back in the observation room. "I can't find him anywhere."

"It makes sense, Eames," Bobby said, leaning one hand on the wall above the mirror as he studied the two people on the other side. "This makes more sense than anything else. Did you read his file? About a year ago, this guy was in the same institution as my mother. That's how he knows me, how he knows about the puzzle box. It's in her room; she always thinks someone's trying to - to steal it. Usually me." He didn't even look up as the door to the observation room opened.

"So, is it my turn yet?" Elliot asked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his tie was completely absent. "Who is that in there with him?"

"His lawyer," Bobby said flatly. Elliot scowled.

"You let him call a lawyer?"

"No, we have no idea how he contacted her," Alex said. "He wasn't let anywhere near a phone."

"Bastard," Elliot growled. "Is there any way we can get rid of her?"

"Doesn't look like it. She's claiming he has schizophrenia and that this witchcraft is one of his delusions."

"Delusion, my ass," Elliot said. He stood with his feet planted shoulder-width apart and his hands on his hips. Alex could tell he was just itching to beat the crap out of somebody.

"Actually, she could be right," Bobby said quietly. "If someone else cursed me, if someone else attacked us and Bishop in the form of a crow ... this man, Leland Kier, may have been put on that roof to take the fall."

"He attacked - " Elliot started angrily.

"I know," Bobby cut in, "but if he's sick, if he's off his meds, it wouldn't take much to - to nudge him in one direction or another. We can't condemn him without proof."

"You want proof?" Alex asked, raising her eyebrows. "_You_ want proof? Oh, I wish Carver was here, he's never going to believe me, otherwise." He gave her a good-natured frown, then slipped back into brooding silence, staring through the glass.

"Well, let's see if I can't shake 'em up a bit," Elliot said with a grim smile. Alex reached to flip on the intercom, but it was already on. They heard Elliot open the door into the silent room. "So, the Council's on it's way," he said, smiling coldly at Raum. "What do they do to guys like you, turn you into toads? Into stone? Feed you to goblins and ghouls?" Raum opened his mouth to speak, but Ms. Anastasius held up her hand and he fell silent.

"I will not allow my client to be treated in this manner, do you understand? He has an illness, and you are deliberately trying to aggravate it. Now, would you mind telling me what my client is being charged with, and why there is no record of his arrest anywhere?"

"She's so calm," Bobby remarked, "so cool, like nothing could bother her." Alex recognized that tone of voice.

"You want me to try?" Bobby shook his head.

"Not yet, let's see what Stabler can do."

"Your client assaulted a detective," Elliot was saying, "but he hasn't been arrested yet." The lawyer looked pointedly at Raum's handcuffs. "We restrained him as a precaution. He was a danger to himself and others."

"But he is not under arrest?" Elliot shook his head. "Then take the handcuffs off; we are leaving."

"Well, we could arrest him, if you want," Elliot said, leaning back in his chair. "I was hoping we could straighten a few things out right here and now and save us all a lot of paperwork."

"And what do you need clarified?" asked Ms. Anastasius coldly.

"How you got up onto the fire escape," Elliot said, speaking to Raum now. "That's the only way you could gotten onto the roof this morning. So what, you snagged it with a stick, caught it with a rope, stood on a dumpster, what?"

"I flew up, Detective Stabler."

"You saw that big, ugly bird, too, huh? Now come on, how'd you really get up there?" Anger stole swiftly and silently over Raum's features.

"I told you, I flew." Elliot laughed.

"Right. Well, if that's true, why don't you prove it. Come on, fly for me. Do some magick."

"I can't," Raum snarled, rising to his feet. Elliot stood with him, leaning on the table until their faces were inches apart. "Your clever Detective Munch made sure of that." He rotated his arm outward, revealing a small, neat bandage.

"What is that?" Ms. Anastasius asked, rising from her seat to get a better look. "Did you sedate him against his will?"

"It was just something to calm him down," Elliot said with a shrug.

"I don't care if it was heroin or vitamin C, you violated his civil rights. I'll have your badge for this." She turned to Raum. "Don't speak until I get back." Grabbing her briefcase, she headed for the door. Bobby walked away from the mirror and stopped her in the hall. Alex followed, leaning in the doorway to watch the show.

"Your accent - you're from Australia, right?" She regarded him for a moment, then made to walk past, but Bobby moved in front of her, ducking his head and smiling faintly. "Brisbane, right? I - I knew someone from Brisbane. She's dead now."

"My sympathies," Ms. Anastasius said, attempting to step to the other side of Bobby. He blocked her once again.

"How long have you known Mr. ... Kier?"

"Several years."

"You've been his lawyer for a while, then?"

"No, Mr. Kier has never had any trouble with the police until now. We shared a mutual acquaintance. Now, if you will excuse me." Alex watched as Bobby headed her off for a third time. Most people, even very polite, patient people, would have been irritated by now, but if Bobby was more than a minor inconvenience, Ms. Anastasius was hiding it very well. "What else can I do for you, Detective?"

"I'm sorry, were you ... going somewhere?"

"In case you didn't hear the first time, which I can't see how you could have missed it, standing behind that mirror as you were, I have papers to file and careers to end." Now it was Alex who stepped up and blocked her way.

"Looks like our suspect isn't the only one off his rocker," she said conversationally. Talking to this woman was like standing in front of a painting of fire. It looked all right at a glance, but there was no life in it, no heat. Alex suppressed a shudder and continued, trying to se if there was even a spark in this painting. "Are you two seeing the same therapist, or something? What makes you think we'll bow to these empty threats? Do you have any idea who we are?"

"I know exactly who you are, Detective Eames," she replied, the fluorescent light playing across the lenses of her glasses as she turned her head to regard Alex. "I am also beginning to realize exactly what you have done to my client. Last time I checked, injecting a suspect with Goddess only knows what in order to coerce a confession from them is illegal."

"So is assaulting a police detective," Alex said fiercely. _Not to mention murder_. But they weren't charging Raum with murder; they weren't charging him with anything, if they could help it. People could disappear in the blink of an eye, but paperwork was forever.

"Your client is lucky we haven't charged him with - with murder," Bobby said, glancing at her.

"Murder," Ms. Anastasius repeated. "My client is not capable of murder."

"He confessed," Alex said. "I'm sure if we asked, he could give us all the gory details, things only the real killer would know." _Like how every bone in her body was broken_.

"Information you fed him, no doubt. Nothing he says can be believed, and no jury in the country would convict that man of jaywalking, let alone murder." Bobby stared at her for a moment, his brow furrowing. Alex knew that look. The pieces were falling into place, in a moment he'd nail both their asses to the wall.

"You're right," he said softly. "If this goes to trial, he will walk. It'll probably be kicked by the Grand Jury, _if_ we can even find a DA willing to prosecute." For the life of her, Alex couldn't see where he was heading with this. She didn't think he needed to be reminded that they had _two_ ADAs who were very personally involved. The Grand Jury might be a problem, but prosecution would not. "So you get him off, Ms. Anastasius - That's quite a mouthful - Is it Greek? - May I call you Satrina? - He goes free, and then he kills again, and it's _your_ body we pull from the East River with every single bone in it broken. Because that's what people like your client do when they no longer have a use for something - they throw it away."

"Thank you for the word of warning, Detective Goren, now, if you don't mind ..." Bobby stepped aside and let her go. Alex watched her walk away.

"Bobby, what the - " But her partner was already heading for the interrogation room. "Hey, hang on a minute!" She caught him by the arm just outside the door. "You're just going to let her go?"

"She'll be back. This game is only just beginning." From inside, there came a muffled shout. Arching one eyebrow, Bobby opened the door. Elliot had Raum pinned against the wall and was speaking quietly in his ear.

"Everything okay in here?" Alex asked. Elliot glanced back and gave them a predatory grin. Alex was momentarily unnerved. This was a no-holds-barred interrogation, but from the look on Elliot's face, you'd have thought it was vengeance and torture night at Madison Square Garden. It's just for show, she assured herself; psychological torture was just as satisfying and didn't leave any visible bruising.

"Just great," he said, his smile faltering a little. "You guys want him back now?" Alex let her gaze sweep over Raum, watched the apprehension seep into his stoically placid expression. Better play it up, she decided.

"No, I think we'll get some coffee," she said. "His lawyer'll be gone for a while, I think. Have fun, just try not to leave any marks on his face." She waved to Raum as Bobby shut the door again. "This isn't a game, Bobby," she said, jumping back into the conversation as if the interruption had never happened.

"It is to them," he replied. "Can't you see it in their faces? I walk into the room with them and - and I can feel it. This is just a game, one they don't think they can lose, because they wrote the rules - but Nicole has forgotten what a quick study I am."

"So that really was her, then?" Alex asked, glancing down the hall the way she had gone. Going by looks alone, Alex would have agreed with him whole-heartedly, but after talking to her - it was like something alien, something inhuman was inhabiting her body. "I don't know ... Raum said she was dead. If he's really a warlock, then he has to be telling the truth, but if that's really Nicole, then he lied, which means he's not a warlock, he probably is Leland Kier, and delusional, and if so, why the hell is Nicole Wallace pretending to be his lawyer?"

"Elementary, my dear Watson," Bobby replied with a quirk of the lips and smiling eyes.

"I am _not_ your Watson," she informed him, trying to sound stern, but giving in to his sudden good humor and smiling back. "Can you prove that she is Nicole?"

"Proof? Me? This is better than proof; I've got a hunch. Or rather, Raul has it and should be sending the results along any time now."

"The black feather you sent up to the lab? What does that - Wait ... " She gave him a sideways look. "You think that feather was Raum's."

"I was talking to Munch while you were ... napping in Sledge's arms. He believes that only the form changes, not the DNA."

"And what good will it do us, even if Raul can extract Raum's DNA from that feather? We've got nothing to compare it to, the defense will claim contaminated evidence, and no jury will believe, nor understand the technical process behind it." They stepped to one side of the hallway as a handful of detectives filed past, perhaps moving closer together than was necessary, but hey, this wasn't their turf and they didn't want to get in anybody's way. She looked up at him, watching his eyes rove over her face before finally finding her own.

"We don't have to worry about a jury," he said in a dark, bedroom murmur, a voice more suited for candle light than the harsh fluorescents over head. "No defense is going to save either of them. And as for a sample to compare to ..." He stepped back and rapped lightly on the interrogation room door before stepping inside. Alex followed, closing the door behind them. Elliot was standing on one side of the room, a light sweat beading his forehead, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. Raum was seated in the metal chair, at first glance looking as if nothing had happened, but then Alex's cop eyes took over, noting the little inconsistencies. His hair was mussed. His face was paler than before, and gleamed sickly with a sheen of sweat. The skin around his eyes was tight with pain; his lips were white from being pressed together. "I just need to borrow him for a moment," Bobby said.

"That's good," Elliot replied. "I was just getting warmed up." Alex thought she saw Raum cringe at these words, but it could have been a trick of the light. She rubbed a hand across her lips, watching Raum. This wasn't right; this wasn't what cops were supposed to do. As if he could feel the weight of her stare, Raum raised his head, his gray-green eyes meeting hers. Hatred welled up inside her, anger and disgust curling her lip in a sneer. Any pity she might have felt for him shriveled up and died. After what he had done, he deserved every bit of what he got. Bobby crossed the room in three purposeful strides, grabbed Raum by the neck, and jerked a lock of hair out by the roots. Raum drew a pained breath through his nose.

"You will pay for that, Detective Goren," he said through his teeth. Bobby ignored him and pulled a small plastic evidence bag out of his inside jacket pocket, depositing the hair inside. It must have been more than just hair, though, because a trickle of blood had begun to run down the side of Raum's face.

"Oh, good, I was wanting a blood sample," Bobby said, pulling a swab out of another pocket. Alex smiled. He was a regular walking evidence kit today. Raum jerked his head away as Bobby went to take a sample of the blood, but Bobby just grabbed him by the throat again and held him still. "All right, Stabler, he's all yours. Unless -" He looked at Raum. "- you're ready to cut the crap and tell me what I want to know." Raum raised his chin defiantly. "No? Okay." He shrugged and headed for the door.

"You can't break me, Detective," Raum called, his voice a little too strained with pain for the intended effect.

"Oh, yeah?" Elliot said. "You'd be surprised how fragile human bones can be. Or maybe you wouldn't, considering what you did to that woman, to my friend's friend." Without a backward glance, Bobby closed the door on them and strode down the hall, forcing Alex to hurry to catch up.

"So what's our game plan?" she asked. He stopped in the middle of the squad room, glanced around, tapped his fingers on the surface of Munch's desk.

"Find him; I need to ... talk to him. When Nicole gets back, don't let her see Raum. Have her detained in a separate room - see if you can't get a - a decent set of prints. I have go see Raul." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "I better call him; make sure he doesn't leave. See you in a while, Alex." He strode toward the front doors, digging in his pocket for his cell phone as he went, then did a sudden about-face, nearly running into a young officer toting a stack of files as he returned to her side. "I almost forgot," Bobby said, encircling her waist with one arm and kissing her soundly on the lips.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	42. Chapter 42

Author's Note - Thank you all so much for reviewing. I found out yesterday, in my research for a certain recurring SCU guy's name, that the season premiere of LO:CI will feature everyone's favorite nemesis - Nicole Wallace! So you see, as much as I might want to, I can't kill her, because then my story will diverge from canon. (All this happens between the end of last season and the beginning of next, so if she dies now, she won't be around for the premiere. (If she really is Nicole, that is.) (I may or may not be joking. (Don't you love parentheses?)))

* * *

Detective John Munch was missing. This wasn't just a coffee run, Alex could feel it in her bones. Something was wrong. She'd had officers searching the entire precinct building from basement to rooftop, with no sign of him. She was about to issue an APB on him when she finally uncovered a beat cop who might have seen Munch leaving.

"Yeah, this tall, thin guy, - might have been him, didn't get a good look - comes tearing down the steps, into the street and hails a taxi and then speeds off. Damnedest thing. Thought he was a suspect making a break for it for a minute, but when nobody came looking for him ..." He shrugged. Alex sighed and rubbed at her temples, trying to forestall the headache she could feel coming.

"You didn't happen to catch the number of the cab, or the company, did you officer?"

"Hey, _Detective_, I'm a beat cop because I don't do well with authority figures, not because I'm incompetent. It was a company called E Z Cab, number 2265."

"Thank you, Officer Mallory," she said, glancing toward the front doors, as if she could make the AWOL detective appear at will. It wasn't Munch who came shoving his way through the doors and a group of cops who didn't get out of the way fast enough, but she was almost as relieved to see Fin's scowling face.

"Any sign of him?" he asked, worry showing clearly in his dark eyes. "Damn, how could he go and get his ass kidnapped _now_?"

"I don't think it was a kidnapping," Alex said. "Somebody saw him get into a cab about an hour ago. I was just about to call the cab company and see where they dropped him off. For all we know, he went home, unplugged his phone and fell asleep. I can't say I wouldn't blame him." Fin was shaking his head.

"I checked out his place on the way over. Looked like he hadn't been home in a couple of days. Tried callin' his cell, too. No answer."

"I'm sure there is a perfectly logical explanation," Alex said, flipping through the phone book and finding the number. "You know he's going to laugh at us when he hears how worried we -" She fell silent as the phone connected.

"E Z Cab, this is Mark speaking. How may I help you?"

"Yes, this Detective Alexandra Eames with the Major Case Squad." She gave him her badge number. "I need to know where one of your cabs dropped off a passenger."

"Do you have the number, Detective?" Wow, that was a surprise; a helpful New Yorker. Usually, people seemed to go out of their way to make her job harder.

"Yes, 2265. He was picked up about an hour ago."

"It looks like that cab has only had one passenger in the last hour, and he was taken to Grand Central Station."

"Grand Central?" Alex repeated, causing Fin's scowl to deepen. "Um, thank you." She hung up. "What the hell?"

"Good question. I'll take a picture and see if anyone remembers selling him a ticket."

"Maybe he's just meeting someone there," Alex suggested, but this had a more ominous feeling to it. Fin seemed to sense it too; he didn't respond, just headed for the door. Alex sank into Munch's empty chair, resting her head in her hands. _What next_? she wondered.

"Don't I know you?" Fin's voice drew her attention toward the front doors. Ms. Anastasius had returned. She gave Fin a slow once over, her face like a mask.

"I don't think so." As she walked away, Fin shot Alex a questioning look. Alex nodded, then motioned for him to head on over to Grand Central. This woman she could handle; his questions she might have trouble with. Taking a deep breath, she intercepted Ms. Anastasius just outside an empty interrogation room.

"Can I have a word with you?"

"I need to see my client, Detective," she said, attempting to step around Alex.

"Let me rephrase that," Alex said, grabbing her by the upper arm. "I have something to say. Get in the room." Ms. Anastasius regarded her in icy silence for a moment, then calmly removed her arm from Alex's grasp and walked into the interrogation room.

"You are already treading a fine line," she said, setting her briefcase on the floor and taking a seat. "Keeping me from my client -"

"Yeah, yeah, civil rights, blah, blah, blah - Shut up a minute and listen. I don't know what that man has promised you, but it isn't worth your life. I don't want to see you laid out on a slab next week, _no matter who you are_." While part of her was screaming that it would be just what the bitch deserved, it wouldn't be justice.

"While your sentiment is touching, I hardly think -"

"Obviously," Alex said, turning away and pacing to the far side of the room. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and winced. Oh God, did she need a vacation. Or at least a drink. After this, Bobby owed her a margarita big time. "I'm sorry," she said, turning back, "where are my manners? Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Soda?"

"I'm to be here a while, I take it?" Alex crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall, a slight smile creeping onto her face. "Water would be fine," Ms. Anastasius said. "In a glass, if you think you could manage. I cannot abide the taste of cheap Styrofoam and waxed paper cups."

"Ice?" Alex asked, raising one eyebrow. Even if she wasn't a lawyer, any idiot on the street could tell you not to touch anything in a police station, especially glass, unless you _wanted_ your prints lifted.

"Ice is not necessary," Ms. Anastasius said. _Of course not,_ Alex thought as she headed for the door,_ if you look at it too hard, it'll freeze solid._ Nicole had been a piece of work, to be sure, but this emotionless, ice bitch routine was a stretch even for her acting abilities. And what was with practically handing over the fingerprints? Either Nicole Wallace wanted to be caught, or Satrina Anastasius had nothing to hide.

Alex asked the officer standing uneasily outside the room where Elliot was 'interrogating' Raum to also keep an eye on her suspect. On her way to the break room, she ran into Olivia.

"Where's Elliot?" Olivia asked. Alex nodded toward the door.

"In there, with Raum."

"He hasn't killed him yet, I hope."

"No, he -"

"Good. I wanted to help." She headed for the door.

"Hey, you haven't heard from Munch lately, have you?" Alex called after her. She paused with her hand on the doorknob and glanced back over her shoulder.

"No. Why? Is something wrong?" Alex took a breath, hesitating. No sense worrying her, especially since it would probably turn out to be nothing.

"No, I just wanted to talk to him. If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him." Olivia nodded and disappeared into the interrogation room. Alex sighed. It had better turn out to be nothing.

"Sorry it took so long, I decided I wanted ice, and the damn ice dispenser is broken, or something. I practically had to take the fridge apart to get it." Alex set a tray containing two glasses and a pitcher of ice water onto the table. "My doctor tells me I don't drink enough water, and since I have no idea how long my partner will be gone, I figured, why not work on getting in those eight glasses a day while we wait? I wouldn't mind so much if it didn't make me have to pee all the time." Ms. Anastasius just looked at her as if she couldn't possibly be less interesting. Alex filled the two glasses and sat down across from her. "So, how long did you say you've known Raum?"

"I've known Mr. Kier for nearly three years."

"And has he always had this Harry Potter fantasy, or did that show up after the books came out?"

"I'm glad you find this so amusing, Detective Eames. Do you enjoy tripping blind people as well?"

"Only those that are faking it." Ms. Anastasius raised one eyebrow a fraction. "You see, my partner has another theory, and I'm rather more inclined to believe him than you. He found a feather, a black feather, that your client planted in this police station. He's down at the crime lab right now, convinced he's going to find your client's DNA in this feather, which will prove one of two things; that you've been telling the truth, or that he has."

"And you think he has, do you, Detective? You think he really is a sorcerer? Just because you found a crow's feather?" Alex picked up the nearest glass of water and took a sip.

"You're a very unusual woman," Alex said slowly, setting her glass back on the table. "Most people hear 'black feather' and think raven." In an instant, something flickered across Ms. Anastasius's stony features. Apparently, Alex hadn't been the only one eavesdropping.

"It's not a difficult conclusion to make," she said. "Ravens prefer rural areas. This is the city." Alex acknowledged her reasoning with a nod of her head, but all the logic in the world couldn't explain away the look in her eye at that moment, the 'did I screw up?' look. "I need to see my client," she said, standing up.

"You need to sit you ass back down," Alex told her calmly. "I don't think the detective that your client assaulted is finished taking her retribution out of his worthless hide." She laughed, but it sounded hollow on her ears. Since when had police work been about revenge? Then again, this wasn't exactly work; it was far too personal. She continued, but it was mostly an act. "He even had the nerve to boast that he couldn't be broken. Everyone breaks, eventually." As Ms. Anastasius returned to her seat, Alex was delighted to see the beginnings of doubt in her hard, cold eyes. Perhaps she had something to lose if Raum talked? Alex was willing to bet a month's salary it was more than her bar card.

"Since you obviously have no regard for the Constitution, perhaps I can appeal to your sense of self-preservation. Release my client and I will see if I can't persuade him not to have you all brought up on criminal charges."

"Are you trying to make a deal?" Alex asked. "I thought only the guilty people resorted to deal-making. If that _was_ a half-assed attempt to make a deal, you're going to have to do a lot better." She leaned forward, resting her forearm on the table. "We both know what will happen to 'your client' if you can't get him out of here, so why don't you cut the crap." Alex took another drink of water. That was one thing she hated about turning up the heat on a suspect; she ended up sweating, too. "I bet he's ready to agree to just about anything by now. Maybe I should have a word with him?"

"He'll offer you the stars and the moon, Detective, but that doesn't mean he can give them to you." She absently picked up her glass and took a sip, then set it back down. Alex smiled.

"I don't want the stars and moon," she said, taking the glass by the rim and setting it back on the tray, "I just want the truth, and I know I'll get it -" She drew a sharp breath as the realization hit her. "I just have to ask the right questions." She grabbed her glass and picked up the tray. "Wouldn't want you to have an accident," she said. "Broken glass is so dangerous."

She practically sprinted to the break room. If Bobby had been around, he'd have had a rubber glove for her, but she had to make do with a napkin, carefully dumping the remaining water into the sink and slipping the glass into a large evidence bag.

"Great work in there." She glanced up from the chain of evidence form she was filling out to see Bobby standing in the doorway, watching her with boyish eyes.

"How long have you been back?" she asked, giving him a crooked grin.

"Long enough. You saw it, didn't you, in her eyes?"

"Clear as day," Alex replied. "Whoever she is, and we're about to find out, she's in this with him."

"You got the prints?"

"Of course. What did you find out from Raul?"

"That I'm all out of favors. He was tearing his hair out by the time I called, sure that something was contaminated, because you can't get human DNA out of a - a feather."

"Is it a match?"

"You know how long that can take. He said he'd call."

"So, do we wait, or ...?"

"I'm tired of waiting. Let's see if our friend is ready to talk yet. Is Stabler still with him?" Alex nodded.

"Olivia's in there, too." He raised his eyebrows.

"Well, we better hurry then, before there's nothing left."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	43. Chapter 43

Author's note - Thanks for the reviews. Sometimes, you guys are all that keep me going. This is probably the longest project I've come this close to finishing - and the end is in sight! Just another seven chapters and it'll all be over ... Waahhh! Just kidding. This has been a blast, but's time to wrap this story up. Thanks again for sticking with me this long.

KendraC - Seven more chapters, that's it. I've got it all worked out and everything. And yes, it'll be one a week, unless I manage to write faster!

Rach - The bad guy is Raum, the lab tech friend of Bobby's is Raul. I almost slapped myself when I realized I'd done that, but I'd already posted that chapter so I was too late to fix it. I know better than to use to names that are so similar.

08ClassicRockChicky08 - I don't know who the detectives will be - probably Goren and Eames - I just heard that Nicole was coming back.

TriStateCopFan - Yes, I had a very overactive imagination, lol! So much so that I had no friends. Ha ha, I guess some things never change.

Ellie - Ah, yes, The Kiss. If you're a hardcore Vincent D'onofrio fan, then you have to watch _The Whole Wide World_ starring Vincent D'onofrio and Renee Zellweger. If you're not a VDO fan, it's a true story about two people who fall in love by driving around and talking - good, but not for everybody. (Since nothing explodes in the opening sequence, my mother won't watch it.)

* * *

Alex stopped Bobby outside the door.

"Is it just me, or does this feel wrong to you, what we're doing to him?" He cocked his head to one side, as if better to see her, but his eyes were on the ground. "Every time I see him, I want to rip his guts out personally, but the thought of what they are doing, torturing him, it - it makes my skin crawl."

"I understand what you mean," he said. "We should be in someone's basement, in the dead of night, with just bare, flickering light bulbs overhead. This isn't what cops do."

"Exactly. But this isn't police work, is it? This is dark basement, dead of night stuff we're dealing with."

"Did you find Munch?" Bobby asked suddenly. Alex blinked.

"No, Fin's looking for him. He might have gotten on a train at Grand Central this afternoon." He glanced up at the ceiling, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"Or gone to empty a locker." Alex glanced back up the hall, at the vacant desk sitting alone amid the flurry of everyday police work.

"He wouldn't," she said at last, but her voice was small. "Oh, Bobby no, he wouldn't." Why couldn't she sound more convinced? John Munch ... was a good cop - but even good cops could make mistakes. They exchanged uneasy glances. Alex pulled out her cell phone and dialed, chewing on the edge of her lip as she waited for Fin to pick up.

"Yeah?"

"Fin, it's Eames. Any sign?"

"Nah, nobody remembers seeing him."

"Do me a favor, get transit to open up locker 12D. There should be a book inside." _If Munch hasn't been there first._

"We got a warrant for that?" Fin asked.

"See what you can without one," she replied, "but call Novak if you have to. Thanks." She hung up. "God, I hope we're wrong." Bobby opened the door.

Elliot and Olivia were circling Raum like sharks, taking turns asking questions - no, the same question, over and over again.

"Why won't you answer?" Raum sat in the chair with his head bowed, his hair dark and lank with sweat. "Why won't you answer?" Elliot looked up as they entered the room.

"Need to borrow some more of him?" he asked. Alex shook her head.

"'Fraid not. We need to talk with him."

"Good luck," Olivia said. "He hasn't spoken since Elliot relocated his shoulder."

"I told you the human body couldn't take that kind of stress," Elliot said with a feral grin in Olivia's direction. She shrugged.

"So I got a little carried away." She looked down at Raum, her dark eyes hard. "Sue me." There was something so ugly about this whole scene, it made Alex's blood run cold. She could have seen Elliot dislocating Raum's shoulder in a fit of anger, but not Olivia, not like this, cold and detached, causing pain for it's own sake. Alex watched them leave the room, trying to see the man and woman she had met just the day before, and failing. She turned on Raum, seething inside at the very sight of him, hating him for what he had turned her friends into.

"Talk, damn it," she growled, "or I'll make you sorry you were ever born." Bobby lightly touched the small of her back as he passed behind her and she backed off, taking a seat beside him, across from Raum, her teeth clenched.

"I'm going to ask you one question," Bobby said, "and you're going to answer me, or else my partner and I will leave, and you can sit in here alone until the Council arrives." He allowed Raum a moment to think about that. Alex would have preferred to pull his fingernails out until he answered them, but apparently Bobby had another idea. "Yes or no, is the woman who was once known as Nicole Wallace alive at this moment?" Raum was silent for a long time. Bobby waited patiently; Alex, less so.

"I don't know," he said at last, his sibilant voice now a raspy whisper. That sickness clawed at Alex's insides again. What had they done to him? He glanced up at her, hostility thick in his strange, pale eyes, and she decided it wasn't anything he didn't deserve. Bobby rubbed a hand thoughtfully across his lips, then stood up, walked around the table and grabbed Raum by the back of his shirt, hauling him up from his chair with a swift jerk. Raum grunted in pain, limping as he struggled to keep up with Bobby's long strides. Alex followed as Bobby dragged him into the hall and next door, into he observation room overlooking the table where Ms. Anastasius sat, staring calmly into the mirror.

"Is that the woman once known as Nicole Wallace?" Bobby shoved the little man up against the glass, causing it to shake and Ms. Anastasius to glance around.

"Yes," he hissed, his breath fogging up the glass.

"Did she die?"

"Yes."

"And you somehow magicked her back from the dead?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Alex chimed in, stepping up in front of him. The side of his face was smashed flat, his glasses askew. He looked at her through one eye and gave a half-smile.

"I told you already, she was strong; I admire that."

"She wasn't just strong, was she?" Bobby asked, stepping closer, breathing right in Raum's face. "She was powerful, untrained, helpless, owing her very life to you, and you couldn't resist."

"She's your apprentice," Alex said, looking into the room at ... Nicole.

"Very good, Detectives," Raum said, twisting around so that his back was against the wall. He brushed the sweat-damp hair from his face with his cuffed hands. "Now, what are you willing to offer me in return for your nemesis, because, believe me, you will never get her on your own."

"How about we _don't_ make your life a living hell until the Council gets here?" Alex suggested. Bobby looked from Raum to Nicole and back again.

"Your life," he said, his voice ground down to a barely audible growl.

"I'm afraid my life is not yours to give," Raum said. "That is mine and mine alone."

"Your freedom, then," Bobby said. Alex stared at him. _You've got to be kidding_, she thought, _this man's a monster_.

_But so is she_, came the logical reply. Raum's eyes shifted between them.

"No, even that I can get on my own. Let me give you a hint, Detective Goren, it's what ultimately interested me in Nicole's little vendetta against you. I would never have gotten involved if not for ..."

"The puzzle box," Bobby said, his eyes sliding sideways, going unfocused.

"Have you unlocked all the secrets that box has to offer?" Raum asked. "Boxes like that often hold unimaginable treasures."

"It was empty," Bobby said. "The three compartments were -"

"Oh, are we sure there were only three?" Raum interrupted. "You see, I discovered magick when I was but a teenager. I was trying to find a cure for my sister, who was thought to be possessed by demons. In my search, I found Balam, a powerful warlock who promised me an amulet that would end my sister's delusions and paranoia, if I would only learn from him and, should he ask, give my power to him. He kept this amulet in a wooden puzzle box."

Bobby's face had gone very still and blank, listening, absorbing with ever fiber of his being. "Once I discovered what he meant to do to me," Raum continued, "I killed him and took his power instead, but the box was lost."

"And you think that box is the same one my partner has?" Alex asked. Raum glanced at her, the self-satisfied smile on his face filling her with such loathing that she had to walk away. She wasn't normally a violent person, she reminded herself. Something about this guy just brought out the worst in her.

"This amulet, what _exactly_ does it ... do?" Bobby asked.

"It banishes demons," Raum replied. "It stops the voices. It cures schizophrenia."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	44. Chapter 44

Author's Note - An unprecidented two chapters in one week! This chapter come in celebration of my sudden good fortune. I have won tickets and a pit pass to the local race track this Saturday, where I will be hanging out in the pits with Ozzy Osbourne, who owns one of the race cars. I think I'm still in shock. I never expected to win. Anyway, I got lucky, so you guys get an extra chapter. Enjoy!

Strawberry-ksc - 'Ugly' was exactly the feel I was going for. I was so happy to know that it came across that way. Ever since Raum was caught, people have been urging me to kick the crap out of him, violate his civil rights, make him pay, and while that may be the gut reaction to something like this, it isn't what the good guys are supposed to do. So yeah, it was ugly, very ugly. Thank you so much for your review, and you explained yourself perfectly.

Alamo Girl - Who coud resist Goren? Not me. I'm wondering what play on the name you're thinking of, because there is one, and it was intentional, but as I've never seen a single episode of Charmed (for the line about the Book of Shadows), we could be thinking of two different things. Ah yes, Detective Carolyn Barrak - she's supposed to a profiler-type, so I think she's going to be the Goren of their partnership. Thanks for the great reviews and I'm glad you like it.

* * *

The silence was deafening. Bobby turned away, like he was going to pace the room, then he spun around, grabbing Raum by the throat and lifting him off the floor.

"All these years I've had that box," Bobby said, no trace of smiling eyes or boyish charm now, just cold fury, "you - you never came looking for it."

"You're not an easy man to track down, Detective Goren," Raum choked out, his feet kicking against the cinder block wall, "especially since I didn't even know your name." Bobby let go of him, wiping his hand on the leg of his slacks as he paced across the room and back. "Besides," Raum continued, rubbing at his throat, "when I killed my Master and took his power, I damned myself beyond redemption. My sister's illness wasn't all that important anymore. I had my own problems to deal with."

"So why come after it now?" Alex asked. "A sudden attack of conscience?"

"It was fate," he said with a shrug. "I happened to pull that woman out of the river -" he jerked his head toward Nicole. " - and you happened to be the one that killed her, Detective Goren. Everything just sort of fell into place."

"A lot of good the amulet's going to do you, or your sister, once the Council gets you," Alex said. "I would have tried to keep my freedom in the bargain." Raum laughed.

"My freedom would only be a bargaining chip if I were truly your prisoner -" He twisted his wrists and the cuffs fell to the floor with a clatter. "- which I am not." Alex reached for her weapon, but Raum held out his hands placating. "By all means, slap them back on, if it makes you feel better." Bobby bent and retrieved his cuffs, slipping them back into his belt.

"Say it then, so that there are no misunderstandings," Bobby said.

"You bring me what I want, I give you what you need to bury Nicole once and for all. Simple as that."

"And if the amulet isn't in the box?" Alex asked. "Of if it's the wrong box?"

"No deal," Raum said coldly, "but I will give you this; make a true effort, with no trickery or deception, and _when_ I escape, I will never bother either of you again, nor knowingly meddle with anyone you know." Alex exchanged a glance with her partner. Something about this didn't feel quite right, like there was something they were overlooking. "You should probably also note, that if I discover you tried to cheat me, I will make you very sorry. I will kill her." His eyes slid over to Alex. "Slowly." Bobby grabbed him by the throat again.

"If you touch her -" Raum shoved his hand away.

"Do that again, Detective, and you will be left with nothing but a stiff neck from looking over your shoulder, wondering when I will return, understand?" He glanced up at the clock on the wall. "It's almost seven. The sun sets between eight thirty and nine this time of year. You have until then to give me what I want. Any later than that, and the deal's off."

"Fine," Bobby said, "but you have to agree not to make your 'grand escape' until then."

"Agreed. Now, take me back to my room. The view from this one is ... monotonous." Indeed, Nicole was still sitting as she had been when they entered. As Bobby escorted Raum back to the room next door, Alex lingered, leaning against the glass as she stared at Nicole. Something about this didn't sit well ... something ...

"What are you thinking?" She didn't look up as Bobby stepped up beside her.

"That we're about to get screwed on this one," she said. She sighed and walked away from the glass. "No matter what we do, Raum gets away."

"For now," Bobby conceded, "but the Witch's Council will get him. We have his fingerprints in the system; it's only a matter of time before he's caught. Now Nicole, on the other hand ... "

"This is all about her, isn't it? You've got it set in your mind that Nicole has to be brought in, no matter what. Maybe ... maybe you're too close - "

"I have not lost my objectivity, Alex. Nicole is a cold-blooded murderer."

"So is he. Damnit, Bobby, you died because of him! Just because you came back doesn't negate that fact. And what about Kia Lighthawk, who died trying to help you?" Bobby turned away as if she'd slapped him. Perhaps it was a low blow, but he was being selfish. What about John, what about Olivia, and Edward and everyone else who had been pulled into this surrealistic nightmare? What about their justice? Bobby wasn't the only one who had been wronged in this. "What about all the people he's _going_ to hurt? Can you really justify turning him loose just so you can get Nicole?"

"Find John Munch," Bobby said, his barely audible as he stood with his back to her, his head hung low. "He'll know how to stop Raum escaping. Since he withdrew his freedom from the bargain, he can't hold it a - against us for trying. I have to go get ... the box."

"Fin's looking for Munch - hell, half the city is. I'm going with you." She heard him draw breath, as if to speak, then he glanced over his shoulder, a thousand shades of insecurity, fear, doubt and sadness in his dark eyes. "I'll stay in the car," Alex told him, "but I'm not making you make that drive alone."

* * *

The weight across her shoulders was steadily growing worse. All the meaningless, distracted banter in the world couldn't drive away the one thought that sat like a crouched tiger in the forefront of her mind, motionless, but impossible to ignore. Three times she'd tried to let it out, but each time Bobby seemed to know what she was trying to say and cut her off with some remark about the traffic, or the weather, or the little black sports car that just ran the yellow light in front of them. Finally, she could stand it no more.

"Bobby," she said, glancing over at him. He was staring out the passenger's side window, or perhaps watching his own faint reflection in the glass. "Bobby, that amulet, - "

"Don't say it Alex," he murmured, closing his eyes. She crossed another intersection before she spoke again.

"Just making sure you understand - "

"Acutely." Alex signaled, turned the corner, and then changed lanes, merging into the freeway traffic.

"It's not like he can do anything - "

"I'm not putting you in danger!" he said, looking surprised at the forcefulness of his own voice. He glanced at her and shifted restlessly in his seat.

"I'm in danger, Bobby, we both are, all the time, it's what we do. Or are you going to make me quit my job now because it's too dangerous?"

"That's different."

"No it isn't. Life is dangerous. It has a one hundred percent mortality rate. You just have to enjoy the time you have, to make the most of every moment, and you can't tell me that having you mother's illness cured wouldn't make your life even a bit more enjoyable. That amulet could do it."

"How can you possibly ask me to weigh your life against curing my mother's illness? You can't. It's unfair."

"He's not going to kill me. I'm sure Fin found John and Raum is lying doped to the gills on the floor of that interrogation room right now. The Council will take him, kill him, whatever, and everyone's happy." Bobby didn't respond.

As they neared Carmel Ridge, Bobby seemed to grow more restless, absently chewing on the side of his thumb as he stared out the window, shifting in his seat so much the leather creaked like a rusted porch swing. He'd have made a great commercial for hemorrhoid ointment. Alex tried to ignore it, but when she glanced down at her hands and found them gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles had turned white, she'd decided she'd had enough.

"For the love of God, stop wiggling," she said through her teeth. "Just say it - whatever it is, get it out. We agreed you wouldn't do this, remember?" He didn't answer right away, but she knew him well enough to know he was trying to find the right words.

"I'm hoping this has been a good day," he murmured. "She doesn't have many, but ... I don't want you to see her on - on a bad day."

"I said I'd stay in the car," she reminded him gently. "I don't mind -"

"No, I - I want you to meet her," he said, "it's just ... no one ever visits her but me. My brother used to, around her birthday, maybe Christmas, but not for a while. I feel like - like she's mine, my ... burden, my ... joy, mine alone, but now ..." _I don't want to be alone, I want you to share this part of my life, but I'm afraid ... afraid that you'll leave, that you won't want someone so ... damaged._ As if he had spoken the words, she suddenly understood.

"Bobby, if you think meeting your mother is going to scare me off, I obviously never told you about meeting my husband's mother for the first time. She threw a crock pot at me. I still married him. So don't worry, okay. I - I understand that this is a big step for you, and I'm honored beyond words, really, no matter what happens."

"Thanks, Alex," he said. As if the warm smile overflowing with gratitude hadn't been enough of a reward, he settled quietly into his seat.

'Can I ask you a question?" she asked after a moment. "It's about Edward." She could have said, 'It's about letting Nicole go.' and have gotten the same reaction. Every muscle in his body tensed. "Why can't you get along with him? He's not such a bad guy."

"Not such a bad guy," he repeated, looking out the window instead of at her. "Forgive me if my 'girl talk' is a little rusty, but doesn't that roughly translate to 'He's gorgeous, so who cares what an asshole he is,'?"

"He's not an asshole," she said. "Wish I could say the same about you, right now." An angry silence filled the car, broken only by the hum of the pavement beneath their tires. "Is that all it is, you don't like him because he's good looking?"

"I don't like him because he's after you!" Bobby burst out, slamming his fist against his knee. "From the day he transferred in, every woman in the building has had her eye on him, but he's had his eye on only you. Guys like him, they think they can have anything they want, but they're - they're fickle, they don't know what they want. But if they see you with something, they think it must be worth having, and they don't stop until they have it - then they don't want it anymore, they throw it away ..."

"What was her name?" Alex asked softly. Bobby shook his head.

"It's not important. I just - I've known guys like him. They pretend to be your best friend, until they've gotten what they thought they wanted from you."

"He's not like that," Alex said, feeling like she was talking to a wall, "but even he was, I'm not interested. I wasn't interested _before_ I found out you've been secretly pining for me all these years." That got him to laugh. "I guess I can't expect you to give him a chance, but don't expect me to stop being friends with him."

"Fair enough," Bobby said after a moment, "just don't let me catch you sleeping in his arms again."

"It's a deal," Alex said with a crooked smile, "I won't let you catch me."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	45. Chapter 45

Author's note - Ha ha ha, what was I thinking? This is _Oregon_ - why would Ozzy Osbourne have anything to do with anything here? It turns out, it was a guy named Ozzie Osburn, who sells Harleys during the week and races sprint cars on the weekend. That's what I get for not reading the fine print. Oh well, it was still fun. Thanks for the reviews - Five chapters left! How's it going to end? Stay tuned to find out. (_giggle_)

* * *

They pulled up in front of Carmel Ridge with less than an hour of daylight left. The sinking sun cast their shadows far up the path ahead of them and turned every window into a pool of molten gold. Their footsteps echoed along the polished floors of the main hallway, the harsh, antiseptic white walls she had been expecting replaced with a pastel peach that was at once warm and comforting. As they approached what appeared to be a cross between a nurse's station and a receptionist's desk, the woman on duty looked up from her paperwork and gave Bobby a warm smile.

"Hello, Bobby," she said. She was fairly pretty with long, black curly hair, the kind of tight spiral curls Alex had always wanted. "I didn't expect to see you until Saturday. Is something wrong?"

"Just unexpected," he replied with a shake of his head. "Maria, this is my partner, Alexandra Eames. Alex, this is Maria Ross, one of the wonderful people who look after my mother. How is she today?"

"It hasn't been one of her better days. One of the other residents upset her this morning." Bobby nodded, keeping his expression neutral, but Alex didn't miss the anxious glance he sent her direction.

"We're going to need to see her anyway." Maria glanced at Alex and then back at Bobby.

"Visiting hours are over at seven - Bobby, you know that."

"I know. Unfortunately, this isn't a - a social call." He motioned toward the badge clipped to the lapel of his jacket. Maria sobered at once.

"If this is official police business, I have to call the Director down - procedure, you know."

"We understand," Bobby said, taking a step back from the desk. He turned to Alex. "You know, this building was constructed in 1887? It was a school for boys until 1943, when it was closed due to World War II. It was renovated into a mental hospital in 1967 and - "

"The Director will be right with you," Maria said, thankfully interrupting Bobby's fascinating history of the building. Alex wasn't interested in the slightest, though she never would have said so. When Bobby got nervous, which wasn't often, thank God, he tended to get encyclopedic diarrhea, spouting useless facts until somebody managed to shut him up.

"So, this Director, he's not going to be a problem?" Alex asked as they wandered across the hall. "We don't have a warrant, or anything."

"No, I don't think so," Bobby said with a slight smile. "The box belongs to me, after all."

"Detective Goren." They turned to see a woman striding up the hall toward them, her knee length black skirt revealing a length of shapely leg. _Nice legs_. Alex frowned. Not exactly her usual train of thought, but it was the truth. Her blouse was cornflower blue, with an almost blindingly white lab coat over it. Her dishwater blonde hair was pulled back in a thick French braid, leaving her high cheekbones starkly exposed. She had a sculpted face, but it was a bit too angular, with nothing soft to break it up, making her striking, but not conventionally pretty. Her eyes were blue, and intensified by the color of her blouse, and her upper lip was split almost down the middle by a faint silver scar; all that remained of a harelip.

"Doctor Tyler." They smiled at each other and shook hands. "This is my partner, Alex Eames." Dr. Tyler stepped forward, taking Alex's hand in her own. Her grip was smooth, warm, and firm, but her touch, like her gaze, lingered for a moment more than Alex found comfortable.

"So this is the ineffable Detective Eames we've all heard so much about. It is a pleasure to finally meet you." She spoke with no trace of an impediment, but each word was carefully, deliberately said, as if to make sure that there would be none.

"This is a ... lovely building," Alex said, for once in her life at a loss for words. Dr. Tyler smiled, her eyes sweeping over Alex's face.

"Yes, quite lovely." She turned to Bobby. "You have official business here tonight, Robert?" Bobby squirmed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, and Alex wasn't entirely sure it was an act.

"It seems, some time ago, I inadvertently left a piece of evidence in my mother's room, and my boss is going to ... well, he won't be very happy if he finds out." Dr. Tyler nodded slowly.

"That would explain the lack of paperwork. Can I assume, then, that we will not be held responsible if this evidence was in any way compromised by our staff at any time?"

"Oh, no, of course not," Bobby said quickly. "It was my - my fault, completely."

"I suppose there is no harm then, although this is highly irregular. Were it anyone but you, Robert ..." She smiled again. _Beautiful smile_. Alex blinked. What the hell was going on? "If you'll follow me." She turned to Alex. "Did you know, this building was a school for boys from 1887 until the start of World War II?"

"I believe I did hear that somewhere," Alex said, casting Bobby a covert glance. He was fighting hard to keep a straight face.

"The you might be interested to know," Dr. Tyler continued as she walked them along the quiet corridors, "when the renovations began in 1967, workers discovered the remains of six boys between the ages of ten and fifteen buried on the property. The Dean confessed, but he was already an old man and died before ever seeing the inside of a court room."

"Wow, that's ... amazing," Alex said, shooting her partner a look of desperation. He just looked away, his shoulders shaking with silent mirth.

"This building has a hundred such stories," Dr. Tyler said, stopping outside one of the many plain white doors that tried and failed to break up the monotony of a hall that never seemed to end, "unfortunately, we have reached our destination. Robert -" Bobby sobered instantly. "- will you be long in retrieving your evidence? Perhaps I could take your partner on a tour of the grounds?" _Oh, please God, no_, Alex thought silently. Bobby almost broke into a laugh, so it must have shown on her face. Luckily, Dr. Tyler didn't notice.

"Actually, Emily, I wanted Alex to meet my mother ... a - as long as we're here." Dr. Tyler looked from Alex to Bobby and back again.

"It's finally Alex now, is it?" she said with an arch of her eyebrows. "You couldn't have waited another week, I suppose? We had lunch riding on you, you know." Bobby had the decency to blush. "Oh, well, Maria will be pleased to hear. Robert, Alexandra," she said with a nod to each of them, "I must return to my office, but Charles will be making rounds in a moment. He can escort you out when you are finished here." She walked away. _Wow, what a - amazing - piece of work._ Alex was pretty sure most of that thought was hers, but lately, it was like her inner dialogue had taken on a mind of it's own, and apparently had a change of heart when it came to sexual preference.

"Bobby, is it my imagination or -"

"Would she rather ask you out for a drink than me?" He chuckled. "It's not your imagination." _What a shame_. "She's an amazing person, Alex, so intelligent, so -" _Sexy._ "- strong."

"Are you attracted to her?" Alex asked, watching him shift his weight from one foot to the other. Big yes.

"We're, uh, losing daylight," he said. "Maybe we should ..." He rapped his knuckles softly against the door before opening it about a foot. He filled the doorway, and reminded her of a small boy at the same time. "Hi, mom, it's me, Bobby."

"Bobby?" The voice inside was faint, weathered with age, but razor sharp with suspicion. "Who's there with you? I heard voices."

"I was talking to Dr. Tyler, and - and I - my partner's here, Eames, from work. I wanted her to - to meet you."

"Would you stop standing there in the doorway?" Mrs. Goren hissed. "They don't like you, but that doesn't meant they won't try to slip inside if you stand there with the door wide open all day." Bobby stepped into the sunset-lit room and Alex followed, closing the door behind her.

The room was sparse, but looked comfortable enough at first glance. Unfortunately, Alex couldn't stop herself picking out the small details that upset the homey impression. The hospital bed was the most obvious, but also the least troubling. It was the open book on the desk, with a small pile of loose, ripped pages beside it, the pictures of Bobby on the walls, bolted in place behind scratched plastic, the felt pens beside the bed, the rolled up towel on the floor, which Bobby kicked up against the crack under the door almost unconsciously; it was these things that stuck out.

Mrs. Goren was seated in a large, overstuffed armchair near the window, the setting sun casting her face into stark relief and deep shadow. She looked tired, her eyes narrowed in perpetual distrust, but Alex could tell that she had once been beautiful. Her face, like Bobby's, knew how to hold a smile, and had done so freely, long ago.

"Mom, this is Alex," Bobby said. Alex started to step forward to shake her hand, but Bobby caught her by the sleeve of her jacket and she drew up short. Mrs. Goren rose from her chair, age taking nothing from her graceful, fluid movements. She could have been a dancer.

Alex had always assumed Bobby got his height from his father, but it was his mother than now looked down at her, standing only a few inches shorter than her son. Mrs. Goren eyed her suspiciously. Alex tried to smile politely and not fidget, but the woman had the most piercing dark eyes. It was like being stared down by your grade school principal.

"I've never seen her before," Mrs. Goren said at last, drawing back and stepping half behind her son. "She could be one of _them_."

"I've showed you pictures, mom, remember? She's not one of them."

"Are you sure?"

"I've known Alex for years; I - I trust her with my life." She didn't seem too convinced, but allowed Bobby to walk her back to her chair by the window. He crouched beside her, taking her hand between his. "Hey mom, you now that old box I gave you a long time ago, I need to borrow it for a while. It's part of a case I'm working on - real important, okay?" Her dark eyes searched his face, then she slowly drew her hand back.

"My son gave me that box," she said. "It keeps _them_ away. You're not my son, you're not my Bobby, you're one of _them_, they're in your eyes, in the holes behind the eyes." He voice had risen to a terrible wail, her hands clawing at the front of Bobby's shirt as he tried to calm her.

"Mom, it's me, it's Bobby, look at me." But she screwed her eyes shut and turned her face away.

"Not my eyes, I won't let them watch me through my eyes." Bobby glanced over at her, pain written across his face, and then nodded toward a shelf in the corner. Alex followed his gaze to a beautiful wooden box sitting beside another plastic framed picture of Bobby, this one from when he was in the military, standing before the Brandenburg Gate. She picked up the box, feeling the worn places where the secret catches lay. "Put that down!" Alex flinched at the hostility in Mrs. Goren's hiss. "It was you, crawled under the door and took my Bobby from me, put them in his eyes to watch me." She was trying to get out of her chair, fighting against Bobby.

"Alex, please get out," Bobby said calmly, but Alex could see the damp track of a tear glistening in the fading sunlight. She slipped out, shutting the door behind her, and leaned against the wall, trying to ease her shuddering breaths before Bobby could see her. She looked down at the box in her hands, turning it over, admiring the detail, the craftsmanship that must have gone into it. She counted at least six different kinds of wood, all cut into squares and triangles and assembled into elaborate geometric patterns.

Running her fingers along the face, she found the three pressure points and watched a crack appear. Hesitantly, she opened the lid. Inside lay an old photograph of two curly-haired, gangly boys, standing beside the ocean, an impressive sand castle in front of them. Bobby couldn't have been more than ten, though he was nearly as tall as his older brother. He looked so happy, laughter shining out through his eyes.

Alex sighed. This was probably the last time that laughter was captured on camera. Every picture she'd seen of him since, even the yearbook photo from high school, his eyes held a sadness, an empty place where this light had once shined. It wasn't obvious, of course, she hadn't even realized it until now, but looking down at that wonderfully happy little boy, she felt a sudden loss, like hearing that some relative that she'd never met had died; the knowing that you had missed out on something, something that was gone forever

She started to put the picture back, but discovered a smaller photo in the bottom of the box, one that the first had hidden. Alex could no longer hear Mrs. Goren's wails, but she couldn't resist taking a look. She swapped pictures, finding a black and white photo of a beautiful young woman in a flowered sundress, laughing through her eyes as she was captured forever in a dancer's pose. She jumped as the door beside her opened, the picture slipping from her fingers and fluttering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it, but it landed on the far side of Bobby's shoe and he beat her to it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go snooping ..." He was staring at the picture, his weary face easing into a more peaceful, recollective expression.

"This was taken right after they got married," he said quietly. "She studied dance in college. She was so graceful. I - I only remember her dancing a few times; I was too young. By the time my memories become clear, she was starting to manifest symptoms, and - and ..." He trailed off into silence and took the box from her, taking the other picture out and slipping them both in his pocket. "Come on, Alex, let's get back to Raum."

"Is she going to be okay?" Alex asked as she quick-stepped to keep up with his long strides. He glanced back at her, as if only just remembering that she was there, and slowed down.

"She'll be fine. I - I'm sorry you had to see that, I - "

"It's okay, Bobby." She didn't know what else to say. Seeing him with her, seeing how much he loved her, how much her illness hurt him, Alex felt sick at the thought of condemning them to any more of that, not when their salvation was in his hands. "Bobby, we can't give that amulet to Raum."

"Please, Alex, no more."

"No, I'm telling you, it's worth the risk. We have him in custody. By this time tomorrow, he'll be dead. He can't do a damn thing to me." He stopped in the middle of the corridor and faced her.

"But what if something goes wrong? What if he gets away? What if he kills you?" He took a step one way, then back, running a hand through his hair. "I watched her slip away from me, watched her turn cold and suspicious. Every day, I lost a little more of - of who my mother was, and there wasn't anything I could do. Now, I can do something. I can keep from losing you, too." He pulled the black and white photo out of his pocket and held it up for her to see. "I - I think _she_ would have wanted it this way. She always wanted me to find the perfect girl to love, and - and now I have."

"Bobby, I -" He silenced her with a desperate, bruising kiss, his hands cradling her face, winding through her hair. She could feel his need pouring through her, making her soul ache, and she kissed him back, as if she could ease his pain by taking it into herself. It didn't work that way, however. He drew back first, his hands sliding down to wrap around her shoulders and hold her to him like that old leather binder, so close she was almost a part of him. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Bobby, I'm not perfect," she said in a whisper.

"Maybe not," he replied, his voice rumbling in his chest, "but you're the closest thing I've ever found."

* * *

They drove away from Carmel Ridge in silence. The puzzle box sat ominously on the console between them, effectively killing any idle chit-chat before it could start. Couldn't Bobby see that this wasn't an either/or situation? He didn't have to choose between her and his mother. Raum was as good as dead. He'd see - this would all work out. It had to. She jumped as her cell phone screamed.

"Eames," she answered. The phone crackled at her, loud rumbling and pinging sounds drowning out any voice that might have been speaking. "Hello? I can't hear you."

"It's Fin. There ain't no book." A lump of ice settled in her stomach. "The locker was empty."

"Okay, thanks." Alex hung up and glanced over at Bobby. "The locker's empty," she told him. "John got there first."

"He has to return to the station to use it," Bobby said. Alex stared at the road ahead. Would it really be such a crime? They wouldn't have to worry about Raum anymore if Munch just killed him. "What are you thinking?" Bobby asked. She tossed her hair back out of her eyes and sighed. She couldn't do that - couldn't allow Munch to do that to himself. _No matter how good my intentions, that kind of power would find ways to work evil within me. _

"I'll call Elliot." She grabbed her cell and began scrolling through the numbers, glancing back and forth between the gently meandering road and her phone.

"Let me, you watch the - Alex, look out!"

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	46. Chapter 46

Author's Note - Well, as we count down to the end of this story (and the beginning of the new season), I just have to say, thank you all so much for your encouragement and support. Honestly, I have never finished a project as large as this and I know that I couldn't have done this without you. I'm as eager to see the conclusion as you are, so here's another chapter for your reading enjoyment. Hope it answeres a few of those pesky questions (like WTF is going on? Lol.)

* * *

Alex nearly put her foot through the floor as she stomped on the brake, the big SUV coming to a screeching halt halfway into the oncoming lane of traffic. Luckily, they were the only car on the road. Heart pounding in her throat, Alex slammed the heel of her hand into the horn, sending three, six foot tall gray birds dashing into the ditch, bleating in fright.

"Could you explain to me," she said calmly, pushing her hair out of her face, "what three ostriches are doing standing in the middle of this road?"

"I think they were emus," Bobby replied. Alex rolled her eyes.

"I don't care if they were parakeets, they're not indigenous to New York, so what are they doing here?"

"Beats me," he said with a shrug. "Maybe they escaped from somebody's emu ranch. With the rising fear of mad cow disease, raising emu for slaughter should be a profitable business. Emu meat is very lean and supposedly tastes just like chicken."

"Everything tastes like chicken," Alex muttered, straightening out the SUV and creeping past the nervous birds. "Let's hope it's nothing more serious than fugitive livestock; the sun has just about set."

"He'll wait for us," Bobby said, one hand absently reaching out to rest on the box between them. "I don't care how far he's fallen, if he ever loved his sister, if there's even a trace of humanity in him, he'll wait." Alex didn't respond. Raum gave her the impression of a man who didn't care about much, if anything at all.

"Oh, great, what now?" Alex asked as they turned a corner and a line emergency flares appeared in front of them. She slowed down, rolling down her window as a county sheriff stepped out of the twilit gloom.

"A truck carrying a couple dozen emus jack-knifed up ahead," the sheriff said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Damn things are everywhere. You folks'll want to go back and take the old highway out to the interstate if you want to get back to the city any time tonight." Alex sighed and popped the SUV in reverse.

"Thanks," she said. "If you're missing any, there's three more birds back up the road about five hundred yards." The sheriff nodded in reply and stepped back so Alex could turn the SUV around. "Tell me this kind of thing happens all the time out here," Alex said, "'cause I'm starting to think somebody doesn't want us to make it back in time."

"It's one detour - twenty minutes - that hardly qualifies as suspicious circumstances."

"Bobby, they're emus," Alex said, slowing down as they passed by the trio of wandering birds. "_Emus_," she repeated in case he didn't get the strangeness of it. A car bomb or a gang war she could see, but _emus_? "If this turns out be the work of some witch, or warlock, or werewolf, or space alien, you are so going to get an 'I told you so'."

"Come on, Eames," Bobby said with a laugh, "everybody knows werewolves don't exist."

* * *

They were halfway back to the city before Alex remembered to call Elliot. The sun had fallen behind the Manhattan skyline, the smog glowing like a bed of embers between the black silhouettes of the buildings. She urged the SUV upwards of seventy as she waited for Elliot to answer his phone. It went straight to voice-mail and she hung up.

"Elliot's not answering," she said. She had no better luck with Olivia. "You don't think ..." She couldn't even say it.

"Call Sledge," Bobby said, but she was already dialing his number.

"Hello?"

"Edward, it's Alex. I need you to - Are you okay?" She suddenly realized how edgy and wary his voice had been. She heard him draw a ragged breath.

"I've been better. What's up?"

"Can you head down to the one-six? I can't get through to Benson or Stabler, and I'm afraid Munch might be making a big mistake. If he's there, you have to keep him away from Raum."

"Me and what army?" Edward asked. "He's a warlock - they both are - and ... I've got enough problems as it is."

"Edward, what is wrong?" Alex demanded, changing lanes to go around some old lady in a Volvo. "Has ... has anything unusual happened to you since this morning?"

"You could say that," he replied with a bitter laugh. "My darling cat left a dead mouse on my doorstep and I couldn't come within five feet of the thing without having some sort of seizure/flashback/episode/thing. It was this horrible mess of feelings and - and sensations; sun, wind, rain, hunger, pain, fear, cold, darkness ... death. I could feel the mouse's death like a shadow inside me, a cold, quiet place that I'd never noticed before, or that had been hidden. Alex, it was the most awful thing ..." His voice trailed away in a note of despair.

"Oh God, Edward, I'm so sorry," she said, glancing over at Bobby. He was staring out the window, pointedly ignoring her side of the conversation. "This is all my fault, I never should have asked you to get involved." He didn't argue. "Assuming the worst hasn't happened, when we find Munch, I'll see if there's anything he can -"

"No! Thank you, but I think he's done quite enough. I'm just going to wait and see if it goes away. It'll go away. It has to." The desperation in his voice was like a knife in her heart. _Don't blame yourself, this is all Raum's fault_. She could hardly argue with the thought, but still, if it weren't for her, if it weren't for his feelings for her ... _Serves him right, stupid bastard_. Alex had to hit the brakes as some jackass in a Jaguar cut in front of her to take the interchange at the last minute. She hit the horn and he flipped her off. "Alex, where are you?"

"Approaching Manhattan. We had an ... errand to run. I gotta go - you ... be careful." She hung up before he could reply. "Bobby, did you say something a moment ago?" she asked. He glanced over at her.

"No ... Why?"

"I could have sworn ... never mind. It seems those side effects Munch was talking about are starting to show up. Edward had a - a thing this morning with a mouse." As she explained, Bobby's face grew increasingly more alarmed.

"You don't suppose," he said, rubbing a hand along his jaw, "Benson, Stabler - their ...predatory behavior this afternoon ... Munch disappearing, now Sledge ... What's going to happen to the rest of us?" Alex had no answer to that.

* * *

The street lights were on by the time Alex slammed the SVU into park and threw off her seatbelt. Bobby was already halfway up the steps, his long legs taking them three at a time, as Alex jogged around the front end of the vehicle. She didn't know why they were bothering. The sun had set nearly half an hour ago; they were too late.

"Where's the fire, Detectives?" Alex spun around, her jaw dropping open at the sight of Raum and Nicole calmly crossing the street toward her. Bobby came clattering down the stairs behind her, taking a stand directly to her left. Raum smiled, looking extremely pleased with himself. "I see you have the box. Are you here to give me what I want?" Bobby hesitated only a moment before holding out the box to Raum. The warlock took it from him, slowly turning it over in his hands. "Exquisite piece of work, isn't it?" Alex found herself holding her breath as he sought out one pressure point after another until the box gave an audible _click_. One of the squares on the front had sunk in, leaving a depression. Raum skillfully began sliding the wooden panels around, like a child's puzzle game, until the gleaming squares of ebony aligned into a perfect X.

"X marks the spot," Alex whispered. Raum smiled again and pressed in the center of the dark X. Twin strips of wood, about half an inch wide, sprang free of the box top. Raum switched them, pressing them gently back into place. He turned the box over, slid one panel to the left, another to the right, and lifted up the door to the secret compartment. Alex craned her neck to see what was inside. She caught a glimpse of yellowed cloth as Raum turned the box over, dumping the contents of the compartment into his hand.

"You can have this back, Detective Goren," Raum said, tossing the box back to Bobby. He caught it on reflex only, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the item in Raum's hand. It was a yellowed handkerchief, probably linen, definitely old, with the initials TK embroidered in the corner. Alex edged closer, for a moment forgetting who it was standing across from her, as Raum began to carefully pull back the corners of the handkerchief. Bobby stepped up beside her, one hand resting on her shoulder. Raum drew back the final corner and they all stared down at the desiccated gray and white rabbit's foot. "I would like to know," Raum said quietly, "what sadistic idiot decided that these were lucky, because it certainly wasn't the rabbit. Thank you, it's been interesting." He handed Alex the handkerchief and foot and began to walk away, Nicole at his side.

"That's it?" Alex asked. Raum turned back.

"What more is there? That is not the amulet my Master promised me. It appears that was the wrong box after all."

"So this foot is ...?"

"Just a piece of a long dead rabbit. Keep it though, as a souvenir. And don't worry, I'll never trouble you again. Whether you intended to or not, you gave me exactly what I wanted." He smiled and took Nicole's hand. Alex watched them walk away hand in hand, her mouth hanging open. Their conversation with Raum played back though her head like a recording.

_Let me give you a hint, Detective Goren, it's what ultimately interested me in Nicole's little vendetta against you. I would never have gotten involved if not for ..."_

"Nicole," Alex whispered. Nicole was his apprentice. Why hadn't she seen it sooner? This was never about the box. He had used the box as a distraction, let them fill in the blank, when all he really wanted was Nicole ... or rather, her surprising magickal powers. He was going to kill her. Bobby stepped around her, jogging down the sidewalk after them. Alex followed on his heels.

"You don't seem that upset about not finding the cure to your sister's illness," Bobby said, stepping in front of them. "And here I thought that there might still be a shred of human decency left inside you."

"You're wasting time trying to play on my guilt, Detective Goren. My sister has been dead for almost a hundred years. I hardly think it would do her any good now." Bobby faltered as that sank in, but only for a moment.

"So after all you gave up, all you ... sacrificed, you were never able to save her. You're damned because of - of her."

"No, I'm damned because chose to take Balam's power. I could have just killed him, but I didn't."

"Because it would have been a - a crime to let that much magick go to waste. You thought, I could do so much with that power, but Raum ... did you? Did you do any of things you thought you would?" Alex watched the faintest shadow of sorrow and regret creep across Raum's features.

"Everything changes so fast," he said quietly. "All the good intentions in the world can't stop that slow slide down into darkness. The temptation is too great and soon, there's no going back." He looked up sharply, his gray-green eyes finding Alex's, and the small stirrings of pity that she had been feeling quickly turned to disgust and hatred. "Everyone has their price, I just got a better deal than most. I may have sold my soul, but I got front row seats at Kittyhawk. I watched a man walk on the moon. I've seen seven wars and fought in three. I was there when they built the Berlin Wall and when they broke the sound barrier. I met Hitler and Gandhi and Marilyn Monroe. So no, I never brought about world peace, or stopped a hurricane from devastating a nation, or even saved my sister, but I wouldn't say I've done nothing, either."

"You're right, you've done a lot of watching," Bobby replied, then he turned to Nicole. "Very clever, joining up with this guy in order to exact your revenge against me. The incubus curse was ... diabolical. Was that his idea, or - or did you discover it on your own?"

"I am certain I have no idea what you are talking about," Nicole said.

"Oh, come on, Nicole, give it up. You won, okay? Time to gloat a little. Tell me, how hard was it to give up your passion, your lust, your love?" He laughed and turned to Alex. "Oh, that's right, she never did know how to love."

"Not if she could murder her own child," Alex said. "And poor Ella, had her throat cut by a woman she thought loved her. Nobody's safe with you around, are they, Nicole."

"My client and I are leaving," Nicole said, stepping past them. "May I suggest the two of you take some time off. You've obviously been working too hard." Bobby planted a hand in the middle of Raum's chest to keep him there.

"Does she know?" he asked. "Have you told her what's to become of her once she grows strong enough?" Raum didn't answer. "I'll take that as a no." He turned back to Nicole. "You of all people should know that nothing is free. In exchange for helping you, he's going to take you magick. And your life. He's done it before - how do you think he's gotten so powerful? How else could he have done the things he did for you? Tell me that." Nicole glanced over at Raum, her passionless face like a mask, but her eyes betrayed her. The gears were turning. Alex cursed inwardly as she cell phone rang. She wanted to finish this. Stepping back, she answered,

"Eames."

"Detective, this is Michael at the crime lab. Two things - First, I got a hit on those prints you sent me, the ones on the water glass."

"And?"

"They belong to a Satrina Lilly Anastasius, birth date -"

"W - wait, say that again," Alex interrupted.

"Satrina Anastasius, born six seven of sixty-three, she's registered as an attorney with the state bar association." Alex tried to take a breath and couldn't. This didn't make any sense. "Detective Eames, are you still there?"

"Uh, yeah ... yes. You had two things to tell me?"

"Right. We just got word from the Delaware Coast Guard that an unidentified female that washed ashore last week has been identified. It was Nicole Wallace. I thought you and Goren would like to know."

"Yeah ... thanks Michael." She hung up and stared blankly down at the pavement in front of her. How could they be so wrong?

"Alex, what is it?" Bobby asked. She looked over at him, then at Raum and Nic - Satrina.

"That was Michael," she said, her voice almost too toneless to recognize. "He says that Nicole's body washed up in Delaware and this -" She nodded at Ms. Anastasius. "- is Satrina Anastasius."

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.


	47. Chapter 47

Author's Note - Woah, sounds like I've confused just about everyone, lol. Well, let's see if this doesn't ... um ... confuse you even more. And don't worry, all will be revealed in time ... in the last chapter, of course!

* * *

Bobby just stared at her for the longest time.

"That - It's not ... possible ..."

"It's what I've been trying to tell you, Detective," Ms. Anastasius said. "Leland has constructed an intensely involved fantasy world. If you can buy into the witchcraft aspect, everything else seems to make sense, until it is confronted with hard fact, and then it crumbles like a sand castle. Now, if you are finished playing make-believe with my client, he needs to return to the hospital and resume taking his medication."

"I am not sick," Raum protested. Ms. Anastasius released his hand and took hold of his upper arm instead, making him wince. She pulled her hand back and narrowed her eyes, glancing back at Bobby and Alex. "Don't -" Raum started, but she reached out and pulled up his shirtsleeve. Alex flinched at the sight of the angry red marks on his pale skin, stripes where fingers had dug into the muscle.

"Did one of you do this?" Ms. Anastasius asked quietly, her voice sending chills down Alex's spine. She knew she'd never laid a hand on him, much as she had wanted to, and the marks weren't large enough to be Bobby's, nor any man's, for that matter. That only left -

"I don't know how that happened," Alex said. For some reason, she was having a hard time imagining Olivia doing that to him. But then, Olivia had dislocated his shoulder. Alex felt that sickness in the pit of her stomach again.

"You _will_ be hearing from me," she said, placing her hand high on his shoulder as she guided him down the street. Alex stepped up beside Bobby, standing shoulder to shoulder as they reached the corner, hailed a yellow cab, and disappeared into the traffic. _Well, that was just about the ugliest mess we've ever stepped in,_ Alex thought bitterly.

_You can say that again_, groaned that now too familiar voice in her head. She glanced up at Bobby. He still looked in shock.

"How could we be so wrong?" he murmured. She reached out and took his hand.

"Come on." She gave his arm a tug toward the steps. "Let's go find Elliot and Olivia so we can all feel like assholes together." He let her lead him up the steps, but stopped outside the doors.

"Did I ... Did I lose my objectivity? Was I so caught up in punishing whoever cursed me that I missed something?" He sounded agonized, and Alex could certainly empathize. He never let anything interfere with his work, not even when thrown together with that Celtic harlot, Bishop. He still managed to shoulder the same caseload that they usually shared.

"No, I don't think so. If we went over the case with a fine-toothed comb, we might find something, but ... this was a man who spent years weaving his fantasy. And the fact that some of the most fantastical parts turned out to be true certainly didn't help. By the time we got that incubus out of you, I'd have believed the Easter Bunny did it, if someone had suggested it." She glanced up at him, suddenly remembering something he'd said. "Bobby, when I came back to you the second time, and you were fighting me, you said there was no Santa Claus, no Easter Bunny, that you didn't make wishes on falling stars ... What was that about?" He shifted uncomfortably.

"That was ... It was nothing, it was stupid. We should go inside -" He took a step toward the doors, but she just held tighter to his hand and refused to move. "I - I read on one of those sites that the curse could be lifted by - by true love's kiss." He wouldn't look at her. "It wasn't the lust spell that made me kiss you, and it wasn't just to lift the curse, it was something I'd wanted to do for a long while, but it didn't matter ..."

"You had been hoping it would work, hoping that I was your true love, and then it didn't, so I wasn't." Alex closed her eyes and swallowed hard before speaking again. "Bobby, _you came back from the dead._ You held me and our wounds healed. When I'm away from you, I feel like a part of me is missing. If that's not true love, I don't know what is." He let go of her hand and his fingertips found the hollow of her cheek, sliding down over her jaw, resting against the pulse of her throat.

"Sometimes I think you're the only thing keeping me sane in this world," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Either that, or we're both stark raving mad and just don't know it," she said with a smirk. "Whichever the case may be, I couldn't imagine it any other way." He drew back just enough to meet her eyes, then closed the distance between them for a kiss.

"Do you two ever do any police work these days?" They glanced down the stairs as Logan stopped before the bottom step, his hands thrust into the pockets of his leather jacket. Bobby straightened up and Alex stepped back, brushing her hair back out of her face as she did.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, making her irritation clear. Logan grinned unrepentantly.

"Edward called me. Seemed to think you needed my help down here. Having trouble with the Wicked Witch of the West?"

"Apparently not," Alex replied. "It seems that Raum is really this mental patient named Leland Kier who only _thinks_ he's a warlock."

"How do you figure?" Logan asked, frowning as he mounted the stairs to stand on the step below them. Alex rubbed her hands wearily over her face.

"He told us that his lawyer was Nicole Wallace. She told us that she was Satrina Anastasius. We ran her prints; she was right, which means he lied -"

"And warlocks don't lie," Logan finished. Alex raised one eyebrow and he grinned again. "Hey, I was paying attention. So what does our resident warlock have to say about this new twist?"

"Good question," Alex said. 'He's miss-" She frowned and glanced up at Bobby. "Why hasn't Munch come back yet? If Leland Kier was full of crap, then there _was_ no book in the locker, right?"

"Unless ..." Bobby said, "whoever put Kier on the roof to take the fall was waiting at Grand Central for whoever came looking for the book." They exchanged alarmed glances and headed inside.

"What book?" Logan asked as he followed them. They were barely through the front doors when Bobby's cell phone began ringing.

"Goren," he answered. He raised his eyebrows. "Really? That was fast. I wasn't expecting the results until tomor - What? You're certain? ... Okay, thanks." He hung up and turned back to Alex. "That was Raul. He says the DNA isn't a match."

"But we already knew that it wouldn't be," she said slowly. "What else did he say?" There had to be more; Bobby did not get that look on his face just from hearing something he already knew.

"The DNA from the feather is female." Alex stood a moment and let it sink in. Female. A woman. A woman who could turn herself into a crow. _Bishop_. No, it couldn't be. Bishop was a lot of things, but ... but she would never ... She had volunteered to sate the incubus, something no one else, not even Alex, had wanted to do, and she had seemed very comfortable with all the magick stuff, and she had initiated the whole rooftop orgy - What if this wasn't about revenge after all, but more like a political power play: they were indebted to Bishop for her help, and if that didn't work, there was always blackmail, and the threat of being cursed again.

The curse. Had Bishop lost her love, lust and passion? She had never exactly been the happy child in school, but ... Alex tried to think back over the past couple of days, searching for a moment when Bishop lost her cool, got angry, irritated, scared, emotional _at all_ and failed. She hadn't been surprised by the magick, irritated at the wagering, angry at being set on fire ... Alex glanced up at Bobby.

"Do you think -"

"I hope not," Bobby said, obviously having the same thought himself. "Better call her, though."

"Who?" Logan asked as Alex fished into her pocket for her cell phone.

"Bishop," she replied, scrolling through her list of numbers. If she could ever remember to clean out her phone book, the red-head's number would be long gone, but at the moment, procrastination appeared to be a virtue. She glanced up from the screen just in time to see Logan reach the same conclusion they both had.

"Oh, no way, you guys, Bishop did not do this." Bobby and Alex exchanged glances.

"You sound pretty sure of yourself," Bobby said. "What do you know that we don't?" Logan shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and shrugged.

"I know that Bishop is a sweet, passionate young woman who has had to keep the world at arm's length in order to protect herself."

"You slept with her, didn't you?" Alex asked, somehow not the least surprised.

"Actually, we didn't get much sleep," he replied with that dark, shark-like grin. Alex rolled her eyes.

"The fact that she had sex with you doesn't prove anything ... except maybe how desperate she was."

"Ouch," Logan said. "Actually, my dear, it proves that she still posseses her passion and lust, and so can't have cursed your partner."

"You guys woke up the neighbors, huh?" Alex asked.

"It was ten o'clock in the morning," Logan said with a laugh. "Though we did get a standing ovation from the peeping tom in the building across the street."

"She was probably faking it," Alex snarked. _Jealous because you didn't get any this morning?_ asked that little voice in her head. _Of course not,_ she told it, _there's too much at stake to rush into anything, especially sex._ Alex shook her head and sighed. She was losing her mind.

"I think I can tell when a woman's faking it," Logan said, but his grin didn't have nearly as many teeth in it.

"Uh huh, sure," Alex said, brushing her hair back out of her eyes, "that's what all guys thi -" She jumped as the phone in her hand screamed to life. "God, I hate that," she muttered as she raised the cell to her ear. "Ea -"

"Alex, is that woman in the room with you?" The connection wasn't great, but through the crackle of static and a distant rhythmic clicking sound, Alex could hear the near panic in Munch's voice.

"John? Are you okay? Where are -"

"Is she there? Tell me, it's important." She glanced up at Bobby, who mouthed the word 'book' at her.

"No, she's not, John. Do you have the book?"

"What? No, Alex listen, Raum's lawyer, she's -"

"He isn't Raum, his DNA didn't match the feather -"

"Alex, _she's a witch_."

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	48. Chapter 48

Author's note - For all intents and purposes, this story was finished at 3 am, on Sept 13. I still need to do a few last edits - let it 'cool' a bit before I can see if there's anything wrong, but otherwise, it's finished. I'll post ch 49 on Mon 19, and ch 50 on Fri 23, just in time for the season premier of CI. _Does a happy dance_. I hope the conclusion is worth the wait. I think so, though it's probably not what you're expecting (_Evil grin_).

To everyone I've confused - I hope it's a good confused (wow, where is this going?) instead of a bad confused (I'm totally lost).

Carissa - When they thought she was Nicole, yes, they thought she was a witch. Once the prints told them that she was Satrina, she was a lawyer, not a witch. Now they think she's a lawyer _and_ a witch.

Javawolf - Wow, thanks so much for reading!

Strawberry-ksc - Hahahaha! That was one of the best reviews I've gotten yet. I'm glad you're enjoying it, even if I did make it very frustrating. I really appreciate you summation of events thus far - it lets me know I did my job right.

* * *

"What did he say?" Logan asked.

"Who's a witch?" Bobby reached for the phone, but she stepped away from him.

"Say that again?"

"The woman, the blonde with the glasses, Raum's lawyer; she's a witch. _What are you looking at? Mind your own business._"

"John, where are you?" Bobby made another attempt at the phone, but she swatted his hand away. She quickly turned up the volume so Bobby could listen in, since he was clearly too impatient to wait. Not to be left out, Logan leaned in, close enough for her to smell his aftershave, hair gel and the coffee on his breath.

"I'm on a train, about halfway to DC, I think."

"What's in Washington?"

"Goren, is that you? Good, you two listen carefully. She's a witch, not real powerful, but good enough to bewitch me. I was exhausted and not expecting something like ... this, but still, she could be trouble. Since I'm back to my old, charming self again - _Don't you have anything better to do? Look, scenery. _- Anyway, she must have stopped concentrating. Where is she now?"

"She left," Alex said. There was silence on the other end of the line. "It wasn't like we could hold her."

"You still have Raum, though," Munch said. Alex licked her dry lips. "Alex, tell me you still have Raum in custody."

"That's the thing, John -"

"Merciful Lord and Lady among us," Munch groaned.

"It wasn't him, though. He told us that his lawyer was Nicole Wallace, but we ran her prints. She wasn't. He lied, John, flat out, to our faces, lied." Silence again.

"That's not possible," he said at last, "not without rewriting reality."

"What does that mean?" Logan asked.

"Logan? What, is the whole department listening in?" He didn't wait for an answer. "If Raum were to lie, the truth would change to fit the lie. If he said the woman was Nicole Wallace, she would _be_ Nicole Wallace, even if she wasn't before."

"But she didn't change," Bobby said. "We were watching her when he said it. She - she didn't change."

"She had to; there's no way she couldn't have. I - I - This is all my -" He groaned, then sighed. "It's too late now. What's done is done. The train stops in Philadelphia soon; I should be back in New York in a couple of hours ... How is everything else? Did you speak with Sledge?"

"Yeah, he's not too happy with you right now."

"I was afraid of that. What happened?" She repeated what Edward had told her. "Great Goddess, that's necromancy. Oh, of course," he said with a bitter laugh, "that makes perfect sense. You remember when we were playing schoolyard pick 'em with the herbs and leaves?"

"Edward chose the yew."

"Right, and I said it's quality was communication. I lied."

"That's why Bishop said it wasn't right," Bobby murmured. "But ... why the lie?"

"As hard as it was to find enough people to pull that off, I didn't want Sledge backing out once he learned that yew is used to raise the dead."

"Yeah, I could see how that might upset him," Alex said, glancing up at Bobby. He was watching her again, that intense observation that bordered on scary. "So, when you lied, raising the dead became communicating with the dead. It'll go away, right?"

"Not without magickal intervention," Munch said after a pause, "but, honestly, more magick has a good chance of making it worse. He should be glad it wasn't something serious."

"He's driving down the street and road kill sends him into a seizure - How can you say that's not serious?" Logan asked. "What happens the next time he's called to the scene of a homicide?" There was a moment of silence as that thought sank in. Forget forensics and evidence and witnesses, Edward could just step up to a body and it would tell him the who and the why and the how.

"It's up to Sledge to decide what to do with this new ... ability," Munch said, as if he'd read her mind. "In time, he'll learn to control it, either to use it, or to block it. It's his choice." The front door of the station suddenly swung open and a uniformed officer stepped inside, stopping short at the sight of them huddled around Alex's phone.

"Conference call," she by way of an explanation, backing against the wall to the let the man pass. He continued on into the squad room, but not without a backward glance. "I think anything else can wait until you get back here. I really can't take in any more right now anyway."

"Good idea. Apparently, no one has taught today's youth that _eavesdropping is rude_. See you in a couple of hours."

"We'll be waiting - Oh, John, call your partner; he was worried about you."

"No, he was worried that he wouldn't get to go on that broom ride I promised him," Munch said with a self-depreciating chuckle. The guys stepped back as Alex hung up the phone and slipped it into her pocket.

"Something still isn't right," Bobby said, rubbing the back of his neck as they made their way into the squad room. "He says she's Nicole. His word is law. She doesn't change. She's Satrina. He lied. He's not Raum. She's a witch. She -" He stopped short and Alex followed his gaze across the room to where Elliot and Olivia sat, him perched on the corner of her desk, both of them with pale, horrified looks on their faces. Neither spoke.

"You two okay?" Logan asked as they approached. Elliot looked up, then dropped his head again.

"What have we done?" Olivia whispered. "What ... what were we thinking?" An icy lump settled in the pit of Alex's stomach. She and Bobby hadn't been the only ones to make a mistake. The memory of Kier's face, gray with pain and slick with sweat, made Alex throat tighten with nausea. She waited for the cold hatred, the righteous anger to drive that sickened feeling away, but it never came. She just felt cold.

"Hey, it wasn't your fault," Logan said into the silence. "We all make mistakes, and he's free now, so there's no harm done. I mean, we _all_ thought he was guilty." Elliot and Olivia slowly turned to look at him. "What, didn't you guys hear?"

"We .. hadn't had the chance to - to tell them," Bobby said quietly. "Raum really was Leland Kier." Olivia rose slowly to her feet.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice tight. They watched her disappear into the restroom.

* * *

Alex found herself repeating the details of their mistakes again and again, not because she hoped to find some small detail they overlooked before, but because her mind would allow her to think of nothing else. No one seemed to care though, if they were listening to her at all. Elliot and Olivia had not spoken since she returned from the restroom, listening silently as Alex recounted the run-in with Kier and Ms. Anastasius outside. Once Alex had finished talking, there was nothing left to say. The evidence could hardly be argued with; fingerprints did not lie.

When Fin arrived back at the station he took a seat near them to wait for his partner. From the scowl on his face, Munch had obviously filled him in. The other detectives and officers gave their solemn group a wide berth, especially after Elliot suddenly and without warning kicked a small metal garbage can into the side of the desk across the aisle from them. Olivia apologized mechanically and without raising her eyes from the floor.

Alex felt like crying just looking at her, at the crumbling shell that had once been a strong, vibrant woman. Olivia could have witnessed any horror known to man, could have fallen victim to any depravity, and nothing would have crushed her soul like this, because all the darkness in the world could not compare to the shadow inside a person.

They did little more than glance up when Munch finally appeared at a quarter to midnight. He looked tired and disappointed, but not nearly as melancholy as she felt. Maybe he had some good news. God knew they needed some. He stopped beside her and leaned against the desk she was sitting on, his shoulder coming to rest against hers. Just that simple physical contact made her feel better.

"You got the fax, I take it," he said, glancing at each of them. Alex frowned and, across from her, Bobby did the same.

"What fax?" she and Elliot asked in the same breath. Munch raised his eyebrows.

"I asked the council to fax over a photo of Raum, to prove we had the right guy."

"Haven't seen it," Logan said, "but I'll go see what I can find." He headed off toward the fax machine. Munch glanced down at Alex.

"So, what are long faces for, if this isn't about letting the guilty party get away?"

"The interrogation ..." Alex said. "It got a little ... carried away."

"I dislocated his shoulder," Olivia said quietly. "I wanted him to scream, but he wouldn't, he didn't make a sound, so I had to hurt him more ... I hated him, hated him so much for what he did, he had to suffer ..." She closed her eyes, looking like she was close to vomiting, and took several slow breaths before she spoke again. "What happened to me, John? I'm not - I'm not that person ... am I?"

"No, Liv, you're not," John said, crossing over to put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and the dark lines of sorrow eased into a softer sadness. It had to be Munch, Alex reasoned, something about the touch of a warlock making you feel better. She'd have to ask later. "Neither is Elliot, or anyone else who laid a hand on that man. He brought it upon himself." Alex couldn't believe her ears. 'He was asking for it' stopped being a legitimate excuse in the third grade.

"You can't be serious!" Alex said, rising to her feet. "You actually expect us to believe that he deserved what he got?"

"I didn't say that," Munch said, stepping away from Olivia. "I said he brought it upon himself. _He_ believed he deserved it."

"What does that -"

"Remembered what I said about what happens when a witch or warlock lies? If they have enough power, reality changes. Well, Raum is so powerful, he can affect reality with his thoughts, feelings, subconscious beliefs. He told you he was damned, right?" Alex nodded slowly, beginning to understand. "He wouldn't be, if he didn't believe it so strongly. He also believed that you all hated him, that Elliot and Olivia would make him pay, and he believed that he would walk away from his captors once again." Alex glanced over at Bobby, seated on the edge of Olivia's desk. Something still wasn't right.

"I'm sorry, but none of that ... matters. The man we had in custody was not Raum."

"Yes, about that," Munch said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You must have asked the question in such a way that he was able to infer that the lawyer was Nicole without ever saying it."

"I pointed to her and asked if she was, or ever had been, Nicole Wallace," Bobby said flatly. "He said yes." Munch rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Not a lot of wiggle room in that, I guess," he said. "Still, there has to be an explanation."

"Yeah," Alex said, "he's not Rau -" Logan came barreling across the room at a near run.

"You guys are never going to believe this," he said, slapping a sheet of paper down on the desk between them. Alex leaned closer. The picture was grainy, even for a fax, and it looked like the photograph that it had been copied from had been torn and taped back together at one time, but there was no mistaking either profile; Leland Kier was shaking hands with Adolph Hitler.

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.


	49. Chapter 49

Author's note - This is it, the second to last chapter. I think I'm still in shock. I never finish anything. But I did. (_Giggles_) You know, without these author's notes and stuff, it's still 105,129 words long. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews. Oh! I've got a new friend to help me write the sequel - His name's Tokura, he's a five week old eastern fox squirrel a friend found cold, dehydrated and abandoned, and gave to me to rescue. He's so cute; his eyes haven't even opened yet, but he's got all his fur. When he's big enough, I'm going to let him go in my backyard - we have a hundred squirrels in the neighborhood anyway.

TrinityWildcat - Oh, wow, I can't wait to read it. I've just loved all your other fics (even if I am a lazy bum and never can remember to review). I'm honored that I could inspire you. Ha ha ha, 'It was all a dream ...' I have a way to make that work, not for this story, but another. Maybe I'll get around to it someday.

brynnamorgan - You're still here! I was just wondering about you last week. I'm glad I didn't lose you.

Strawberry-ksc - Yes, it is insane! So am I! Hee hee hee! Actually, I had the end to this worked out months ago, and good thing, otherwise I never would've figured it out. It's really crazy, isnt it? The sequel will be a while in coming, I'm afraid. I need a break, need to work on a few other projects, I may take November off from my works in progress to do NaNoWriMo again, so I probably won't start posting the sequel until January. I have written a few random scenes, so I may post a 'teaser' along with the last chapter, if I can find one I'm sure I'll keep.

detective-sweetheart - How could I leave you hanging? Easy, I've been doing it the entire story, lol. Cliffhangers come easy to me. Thanks for reviewing and I'm glad you're enjoying it.

* * *

"That's impossible," Elliot said at last. "It - it has to have been doctored. It's two different pictures taped together - you can see the tape!" Munch was shaking his head.

"I've seen the original. It's real. It's also the only picture we have of Raum."

"But that's the same guy," Fin said. "You tellin' us he ain't aged a day in sixty years?"

"Longer than that. He was born in March of 1823."

"He's a hundred and eighty years old?" Logan asked.

"Hundred and eighty-two," Bobby corrected. Logan shot him an annoyed look. Alex rolled her eyes. Alpha males.

"Yes, he's old," Munch said, interrupting before anything could start. "He's old, and powerful, and very clever. More clever than I anticipated. He made us all look like fools."

"I hope you're not including me in that statement." Alex glanced over her shoulder as Bishop strolled into the squad room, looking refresh, rested and as smug as the cat that ate the canary. "I take it he got away?"

"For now," Munch replied. "He had unexpected help from a witch named Satrina Anastasius."

"As in, the demoness Satrina?" Munch nodded. "Great, another crow to worry about. It's getting so that a girl can't even fly across the island without running into a shapeshifter these days."

"You won't have to worry about her for long," Munch said. "Raum's probably planning to kill her as we speak. She's no powerhouse like our Eames here, but good enough to persuade me to take a trip to DC." Bishop nodded, but looked like she could care less about Ms. Anastasius's fate. She glanced over at Logan, who was trying to look casual at her sudden appearance and failing. His grin only widened when she gave him a seductive half-smile.

"Thanks for this morning," she said in a low, sultry voice. "That was just what I needed." Alex raised one eyebrow. Apparently, not having to hide her heritage had freed her from all sorts of constraints. Bishop turned to Munch. "So, is Edward okay?"

"More or less," Munch muttered. "I haven't spoken with him today, but Alex has." Alex forced her face into a neutral expression as Bishop looked over at her.

"Let me guess, when he woke up there was ten years worth of dead neighborhood pets on his doorstep."

"No," Alex said, making a disgusted face. "Why would you think that?"

"In case Munch hasn't told you, yew isn't used for communication."

"I know, it raises the dead."

"Well, that isn't a figure of speech, Eames. I knew a guy could clear a cemetery just by driving past if he wasn't paying attention."

"He doesn't raise the dead," Alex snapped. Bishop raised her eyebrows, but only to glance over at Munch.

"Sounds like I haven't been giving you the credit you deserve."

"I only influenced it a little," he replied defensively.

"So what has happened to Edward?" Bishop asked, turning back to Alex.

"He's become a -" Her mind blanked on the word. It started with an N ...

_Necromancer_.

"Yes, thank you," Alex said.

"You're welcome," Bobby replied.

"He's a necromancer," Alex finished. Bishop was looking at her strangely. "You know, he can make contact with the dead, see what they saw, feel what they ... felt ..." Everyone had that strange look on their faces, some watching her, some watching Bobby, with Fin glancing back and forth between them. "What?"

"What were you thanking Goren for?" Elliot asked, frowning.

"I couldn't remember the word 'necromancer' and he reminded me. It's been a long couple of days, okay." They were still giving her 'that don't make eye contact and back away slowly' look. It was starting to get on her nerves.

_Take it easy, Alex, this is about to get a little weird_, said that now familiar voice of reason. _Weird-er, I guess_, it added with a chuckle.

"Alex, Bobby didn't say anything until you thanked him," Olivia said. "Are you sure -" Alex turned her out and turned to Bobby, who was smiling slightly.

_Weird-er is right_, she thought, the thrill of surprise as his smile deepened short-lived as a rush of annoyance washed over her. _And how long have you had this figured out?_ she demanded. He became serious once again.

_Just since you thanked me. I suppose I might have suspected something was going on before that. This has been happening all day, now that I think about it._ Alex thought about it, too, about all the little comments that kept popping into her mind. She raised one eyebrow.

_Dr. Tyler's legs?_ She smirked as he squirmed a bit. _At least now I know I don't have any hidden lesbian tendencies_. Bobby laughed aloud.

"Just to let you know," Munch interrupted, "that is considered rude by most people, just like whispering. If you're going to talk around other people, do it out loud, or learn to control your expression better."

"Sorry, we didn't - Wait a minute, I don't remember telepathy being a power of either of our plants, or is there something else you haven't told us?"

"This doesn't have anything to do with the plants," Munch said. "And it's not telepathy. If you were telepathic, you'd be able to hear everyone's thoughts, not just Goren's."

"Oh, come on," Bishop said, rolling her eyes, "it's not like this is a surprise. The two of you have always had a connection; knowing what the other would do before they did it. The magick just made it stronger." Was that a hint of jealousy in those gray eyes? Alex couldn't be sure. It was probably just wishful thinking on her part. "I better go see Edward before his pork chops start talking to him," Bishop said, earning her half a dozen strange looks. "Hey, a dead animal is a dead animal, whether it's on the highway or in your fridge. I'll see you guys later." Alex watched her walk away, trying to ignore the urge to go after her, but gave in before Bishop reached the main doors of the building. She hated leaving things unfinished, unsaid. Grumbling to herself, she wove through the scattered cops milling around the squad room, catching up to Bishop on the front steps.

"Hey," Alex said, stopping a few steps above Bishop, "I never thanked you for your help, so ... thanks." Bishop just looked at her for a moment, long enough that Alex considered giving her the finger and going back inside, but before she could, Bishop spoke.

"I really don't care whether you like me or not," she said. "I can't see us ever brushing each other's hair or anything, but you need to know that I was never 'after' your partner. During your absence, I came to respect Goren, and you - or rather, the role you play in making him complete. I couldn't do that. I thought I could do anything, but I couldn't do that." She was silent a minute, thinking. "When I volunteered to take your place with Goren the second time, I wasn't trying to come between the two of you, I just wanted to feel the magick. I don't have any of my own, you know, I can't do spells alone, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to feel that power.

"Anyway," she continued, "I hope I didn't cause a problem. I respect both of you too much to want to cause you trouble."

"No, no trouble," Alex said, trying to decide if Bishop was for real or not. Gut instinct told her that she was sincere, but this woman was so different from the cold, unsociable detective that had always kept everyone at arm's length, it was hard to believe she was _this_ was the real Bishop, and that other person had been just a cover. Bobby had done that, too, though, for the first few weeks that they'd been partners. Was there something about her, then, that made people feel they had to pretend to be someone else? Did she some off as that judgmental?

No, it wasn't her, specifically, that they'd been hiding from, it was the world at large. Alex had never felt like she had to hide who she was, and she hoped to God she never had to. It looked like a sad, lonely way to live.

"Well, I better check on Edward," Bishop said, turning and continuing down the stairs. "If you guys need me again, don't hesitate to call." Alex watched her walk halfway across the street.

"Hey, Bishop?" Alex called after her. The willowy red-head glanced back. "Thanks." She got a small, but genuine smile in response. Alex waited until she had climbed into her car and driven away before turning to reenter the station. A chill wind whistled past, biting through her light jacket and making her shiver. It was just past midnight - the witching hour. Alex glanced up and down the street, and the scanned the rooftops for good measure. Her heart climbed into her throat at the sight of a bird-shaped silhouette perched on the corner of the building across the street, but she swallowed it back down a moment later, cursing herself for panicking. It was an owl, not a crow.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly, speaking mostly to herself. The owl, however, must have heard her, for it's silhouette changed as the head swiveled around, a flash of gold in the dark as the streetlight reflected in its eyes. Alex stared at it, the wild, fierce beauty in those great gold eyes. She jumped as some damn dog up the street began to bawl at the top of it's lungs. The owl took off, winging silently through the orange light of the streetlamp before disappearing between two buildings. That hunting bawl of a hound came again, joined by a second hound's voice, a deeper pitch, almost a roar, and Alex felt the hair on her arms stand on end.

"Pation, Fortion, _silence!_" The bawling stopped short. Alex stepped back against the face of the building, standing motionless as a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Tarak. He didn't see her at first, and looked startled once it he did. "Oh, hey there Detective ... Eames, is it?"

"Hello, Mr. Tarak," Alex said. He gave her that warm, good 'ol boy smile.

"It's just Tarak," he said. "So, what're you going out here at this time of night - Stargazing?" He laughed and she had to smile. The five stars bright enough to shine through the city's glow weren't even visible between the buildings rising around them. "Seen anything unusual, like an owl, maybe?" He tried to make the question sound casual, and failed.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did," she said slowly. "Why?"

"I've been looking for one. I'm in Animal Control, remember?"

"Oh, that's right," she said, pretending to have forgotten. "For some reason, I thought you worked at the Library." She watched a shadow of unease steal across his features. "So, this owl you're looking for, does it has rabies or something?"

"No, nothing like that, it just doesn't belong in the city. It's going to fly into a high-rise window and break it's neck."

_Hey, Eames, what's taking so long?_ She started to glance over her shoulder, but caught herself in time. This was going to take some getting used to.

"So, you're going to catch the owl and release it into the wild?" she asked. _Tarak's here_, she informed Bobby.

"That's the plan," Tarak said with a smile. "Where'd you see it?"

_Keep him there_, Bobby thought, and she could feel, rather than hear, the eagerness in his voice. _I'm on my way._ Alex blinked, and realized that Tarak was watching her, waiting for something.

"Oh, the owl, sorry. It's been a long day. It was there, on the corner of that roof." As she glanced upward, she caught that same ghostly movement out of the corner of her eye, but this time, she refrained from looking directly at it and it didn't disappear. She still couldn't tell what it was, but something that shimmered with a silvery sheen, like heat coming up off the pavement, was milling about Tarak's knees. The door behind her opened and she glanced over her shoulder, losing track of it.

"Hey, Alex, are you - Oh, hello. Tarak ... what did you say your last name was?"

"Smith," Tarak said, glancing around and taking a step backward. "So, did you get anything out of Raum?"

"Nothing useful," Alex said. "We're still trying to sort it all out."

"I still can't believe I -" Tarak started, but Bobby cut him off.

"He got away." Tarak stared at him blankly. "You may not want to finish that sentence, since he's no longer in our custody ..." A look of barely disguised terror filled Tarak's eyes, and whatever unease she had previously felt around him vanished.

"I seriously doubt he's even in the country anymore," Alex assured him. "He and his witch of a lawyer left here about three hours ago." He didn't seem to hear her, though.

"You know, I should ... I need to ... Damn it, I gotta go." He disappeared into the darkness, the high-pitched whine of a dog trailing off into the night.

"Well, that was interesting," Alex said, leaning back against the front of the building. "Why'd you want to talk to him?"

"He was really scared of - of Raum," Bobby said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I just wanted to ... see if he made me as uneasy as he did this morning."

"And did he?"

"No. Perhaps I was imagining it before. Of course, he didn't stick around for very long." He glanced around. _Do you really think Raum is gone?_

_He did promise to leave us alone_, Alex thought back with a slight smile. "You know, I think this is going to prove extremely useful."

"Especially during those long, boring conferences the Captain insists we go to," Bobby said with a laugh. _Forget about passing notes_. Alex smiled, then sobered.

"So ... what do we do now?"

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


	50. Chapter 50

Author's note - Well, here it is - Hope it was worth the wait. Thanks for all the encouragement and reviews, and hopefully, I'll see you after the first of the year. Enjoy!

* * *

Alex sat her desk, bent over the paperwork of their most recent case, the third in a string of open and shut tales of greed, jealousy, murder and revenge. She was torn between annoyance that there wasn't something harder to distract her from the constant wondering, reviewing and second-guessing that had filled the week since Raum escaped, and relief that there _hadn't_ been anything challenging, because she was having one hell of a time keeping her mind on work. There had to be something ... something they'd missed. Nine of the last ten calls on her phone log were made to Munch, asking him if this was possible, or if that might have happened. His answer was always 'No', or 'I doubt it'.

The tenth call was to Edward, who was pointedly avoiding them at work. When she did catch a glimpse of him, he looked pale and drawn, like he hadn't been sleeping well, and might have lost some weight. It was the sight of him in a wrinkled shirt that prompted her call, though; she had never seen him in anything that wasn't freshly ironed. He hadn't wanted to talk and insisted that nothing was wrong.

_Penny for your thoughts?_ She glanced up at Bobby, who had stopped working on his share of the forms and was leaning on his elbow, watching her.

_I'd be ripping you off if I accepted that offer_, she thought back. _It's the same crap I've been thinking about the last six times you've asked. Why can't I let this go?_

_Because we've never been deceived by anyone like he deceived us, not even Nicole. It was months before I stopped beating myself up over her._

_Nice to know what I have to look forward to_. She started as Deakins appeared beside their desks.

"When you two have finished your staring contest, I'd like to see you in my office." As he walked away, Alex glanced at Bobby, who was wearing that shy, half-smile that she had loved even before loving him.

_What do you suppose he wants?_ she asked, setting down her pen and rising to her feet, her back protesting vehemently as being forced to change position after being bent over the desk for so long.

_To congratulate us on our fine detective work this past week, probably._ Alex smiled. Bobby as good with the sarcasm as she was, she'd discovered, he just rarely voiced his thoughts aloud. They stepped into the Captain's office and Bobby closed the door behind them. Deakins leaned back in his chair and regarded them for a moment.

"Is there something you two want to tell me?" he asked, sounding much like a father interrogating his kids.

"Like what, Captain?" Alex asked. He sat up and laced his fingers together on the surface of his desk.

"Like why you are hardly speaking to each other these days." Alex almost laughed, and had to fight desperately to keep a straight face. "I noticed it almost a week ago, but then, I have been keeping an extra close eye on you. I thought maybe I was just looking for trouble where there wasn't any, but yesterday, Detective Jensen asked me if you had had a fight and if I was going to split you up. Now, God knows I can't fault your work, but I also can't have you disrupting this squad. I've allowed you both a lot of leash when it comes to ... personal relations. Please tell me I haven't made a mistake."

_Should we?_ Alex asked, not even glancing at her partner.

_Might as well. I doubt telling him not to worry will work._

"It's like this, Captain," Alex said. Deakins looked like he was preparing himself for the worst. "You know how Goren and I could -"

"- practically finish each other's sentences," Bobby continued without missing a beat, "almost like we could -"

"- read each other's minds?" Deakins looked back and forth between them, and did not seem amused by their little performance. "We can talk to each other in our heads," Alex said, cutting to the chase. "That's why it's seemed like we haven't been speaking."

"So there's nothing wrong between you, nothing I need to worry about?" Deakins asked. Alex and Bobby exchanged glances.

"No, Captain, everything's fine." Bobby took a step backward, towards the door. "We can even prove that we hear each other's thoughts, if you -"

"Don't bother," Deakins said, holding up hand. "If you've gone through all this trouble to lie to me, I'm not giving you the satisfaction, and if you're telling the truth ... I don't want to know it. After the mess I've had to sort out because of last week's ... events, I don't want to see so much as a card trick for as long as I live. No ghost stories, no alien encounters, to psychic detectives, got it?"

"Got it, Captain," Alex said. Bobby just nodded.

"Good, now get back to work. Oh," he said when they were halfway out the door, "you might want to start talking out loud again, if it'll help keep the peace around here." They left his office in silence, even their thoughts restrained as they sat back down at their desks.

"I guess we should have known someone would notice," Alex said, glancing over at Jenkins sitting at his desk with his back to them.

"He was probably wondering if you were going to be looking for a new partner any time soon. He's tired of being a Junior Grade Detective and probably figures partnering with you would be the easy way to a quick promotion."

"Gee, and here I thought he wanted me for my cheerful personality." Alex picked up her pen to get back to work, but dropped it again as Edward burst from the elevators, heading straight for their desks. He practically knocked over Detective Lewellen in his haste.

"Goren, Eames, you're not going to believe this. A friend of mine works Homicide - "

"You've got a friend?" Bobby asked, arching one eyebrow. "You're right, I don't believe it." Edward ignored him, turning to speak directly to Alex instead.

"A body was just pulled from the East River - hasn't been identified yet; it's on its way to the morgue right now - but preliminary COD is blunt force. It looks like every bone in the body was shattered."

"Satrina," Bobby said, his voice flat, dead. Alex felt it too, a kind of hollowness in the pit of her stomach, part regret, part disappointment, part anger. It shouldn't have ended this way. It was their job to protect people, even if that meant protecting the bad guys from each other. _I suppose we should probably go down and see what's left of the body._

"Yeah, there might be some evidence ..." _Fat chance of that._

_Everyone makes a mistake eventually._

"We sure did."

_Why are you talking out loud?_

_Deakins asked us to. Why?_

_Your would-be boy-toy is giving us a funny look._ Alex glanced up at Edward. She'd forgotten he was there, and indeed, he was watching her like she'd grown another head.

"Sorry," she said, "just thinking out loud." She hadn't meant it to be funny, but, considering the situation, it was no wonder Bobby burst out laughing. The harder she tried to keep a straight face, the more impossible it became. Finally, she gave in and laughed until her sides hurt, which drew curious looks and puzzled glances from everyone on the eleventh floor, but right then, she didn't really care. None of them knew how this past week had weighed upon her, her every waking thought, and quite a few of her dreams, revolving around Raum. As she laughed, she finally let it go, as if she were laughing at Raum himself.

"Finished?" Edward asked once the laughter had given way to weak giggles as she tried to catch her breath.

"Edward, I'm sorry," she said breathlessly. He turned his face away.

"You don't owe me an apology, Eames," he said. "I'm just glad I could brighten your day." He started to walk away. Alex jumped up and caught him by the arm.

"Please, Edward, don't be like that." She relaxed her grip on his arm, her hand sliding up toward his shoulder. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed him during this past week. He reached out and took her other hand. Apparently, he had missed her, too. "Why - why don't you come with us," Alex said, suddenly realizing that they'd been standing silently for too long. Edward let go and stepped back, looking horrified.

"Go with you ... to the morgue. Are you out of your mind?"

_A legitimate question,_ Bobby thought as Edward stalked away. _What the hell was that all about?_

"I don't know," she said, sitting on the edge of Bobby's desk. _It's been a long week. I guess it just caught up with me._ She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. _Don't worry, sweetheart, he's still just a friend._ "If even that much," she added out loud, a touch of sadness in her voice.

* * *

"Long time, no see," Dr. Rodgers said as Bobby and Alex made their way across the chilly morgue examination room to where a single body lay, still wrapped in its heavy black body bag. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"You're body," Alex said, and was rewarded by Bobby's deep chuckle rumbling through her head.

"Wow, like I've never heard that one before," the ME said sarcastically. "If that's all you wanted, the exit's that way."

"The body pulled from the river this afternoon, we believe she was a suspect of ours," Alex said, no qualms about getting down to business now that the pleasantries were out of the way.

"Really?" Rodgers glanced at the preliminary report filled out by the coroner at the scene. "I think you've got the wrong corpse."

"Cause of death was blunt force," Bobby said. "Every bone in her body is broken."

"We can't be sure of that until we do x-rays," Rodgers said, "but yes, it appears to that way. Except for one thing." She unzipped the body bag and pulled the sides back. "This victim is male." The scent of decomp, a day or two at least, aided by the water and the sun, assailed Alex's senses. She stepped back, trying to find clean air to breathe, but stopped dead at the sight of the body. Clean air was forgotten; she couldn't breathe at all.

It was Raum. She had memorized that face, identical to the one in the picture with Hitler. It hardly mattered that the skin had gone white and began sloughing off in the water, or that the body had obviously met with a few rocks before being found, or that the cheek and jaw bones were crushed and misshapen; gut instinct alone could have told her it was him.

"Satrina," Bobby said, his voice flat, dead. Alex shook her head. Ms. Anastasius was a mediocre witch at best; how could she have done this?

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Detectives?" Bobby shook his head and headed for the doors.

"If we could get a copy of the autopsy report ... when you're done ... thanks," Alex said. She followed Bobby into the hall, where he stopped and leaned against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. "You really think she killed him?"

"You heard Munch," Bobby said. "That's how evil witches and warlocks die - their apprentices get too powerful and kill them."

"Yeah, but Munch also said she wasn't very powerful. How could she have?"

"If she had the book, if she could read the spell, I think that's all it would take."

"Yes, but where did she get the book from? She left the station with Raum; I really don't think he was stupid enough to let her near it."

"Before then, while Raum was still -" He stopped and Alex could feel his mind running at light speed, like a glow in the back of her head. "Alex, did you ever hear from anyone about those papers she went off to file, the ones that would end our careers?" Alex felt the expression leave her face. "Neither did I. She didn't file any papers. She went and got the book."

"But how did she know where to l - The intercom," she said suddenly, answering her own question. "After Raum told us where the book was, I followed Munch out into the squad room. I walked past a blonde woman in a blue suit, I didn't even notice, but it must have been her. She was standing outside the observation room talking to some cops. And when we left her and Raum alone in the room, I went to turn the intercom on, but it was already on. She was listening." They looked at each other for a moment, trying to decide if this new information changed anything. It was interesting, and did explain a few things, like why they still had their jobs, but in the end, they knew little more than before. They both jumped as Bobby's cell phone rang, startlingly loud in the long, empty hallway.

"Goren," he answered. Alex wasn't particularly close, nor did Bobby keep the volume on his phone turned up real loud, but Alex clearly heard the voice on the other end of the line, as if she were holding the phone herself.

"Hello Bobby. Hello Alex." The voice gave her chills, so soft, and once more heavy with that Australian accent, but also cold, lifeless.

"Hello Nicole," Bobby said. Alex watched him try to swallow, his Adam's apple jumping up and down as his dry mouth refused to cooperate. She had never seen him so pale. Of course, she was shaking where she stood.

"Come on, Alex, don't be shy. Say hello."

"Hi," Alex managed on the third attempt. Nicole laughed, but there was no feeling behind it.

"I assume you have found my unfortunate savior and mentor. Poor man, you should have seen his face when he realized I was going to kill him. I've never seen such terror."

"You took the book out of the locker," Bobby said. "You stole his power."

"Of course. When he found the book missing, I told him I overheard Alex say they had been searching the train station for Munch. He assumed the rest. A dangerous practice. It got him killed."

"And what's it going to do to us, Nicole?" Bobby asked. "We assumed your fingerprints could be believed."

"Yes, that was not easy to accomplish. I tried changing my actual, physical fingerprints to match those of the woman I killed, but the magick was too involved for me, the prints came out muddled, and even if it worked, there would be two of her, and none of me. So I found a young computer wizard and convinced him to hack into the police database and alter certain information."

"You had him switch your fingerprints with Ms. Anastasius, so that when we found her, we would assume it was you," Alex said, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"Well, you're mostly right," Nicole said. "Her real name was Alice Hanover. I had him change that as well. I mean, do I look like an Alice to you?"

"What do you want, Nicole?" Bobby asked, his voice ground down to a growl.

"At the moment, nothing except to gloat a little. Eventually, though, I will want what is mine." They both glanced down at the simple wedding band on Bobby's finger. He hadn't taken it off since the spell.

"What do you want it for?" Alex asked. "It's not like you ever used it when you had it."

"Quite right, Alex, but it is the principle of the thing. It's mine and I shall be taking it back."

"When?" Bobby asked.

"When I have nothing better to do. Perhaps when you least expect it, or when I find a use for it. But you will be seeing me again."

"Oh, yes, one day we'll look up and you'll come swooping down out of the sky on your broomstick and set us on fire," Alex said.

"If I only wanted you dead, I could kill you from here," Nicole replied, "but where is the challenge in that? No, when we meet again, it'll be on equal terms; just our wits, no magick. You have my promise."

"And what good is that?" Alex asked. "All those lies you told about Raum being crazy Leland Kier, calling yourself Satrina. Your promise is worthless."

"No, my promise _was_ worthless," Nicole said. "I barely had the power to bewitch your Detective Munch. If he hadn't been exhausted, I never would have been able. But now, I have enough power to put out the sun, with just a word, just a thought."

"Then why don't you," Alex snapped, rather rashly. Losing the sun would be a very bad thing. Nicole just made that laughing sound again. Alex couldn't actually call it laughing; real laughter had warmth, tone, feeling.

"I may, someday, but for now, I have to live on this plant as well, and a lot longer than you will, so I better not. Magick can have unforeseen consequences, as you well know, and words are the tools we use to shape our magick. A tool that is malformed cannot be expected to work properly, and that which it creates cannot be expected to function any better. So, unless I have a death wish, it's better to tell the truth." A loud, echoing voice suddenly came through the phone, speaking something vaguely Asian, but what language, Alex didn't have a clue. "That's my flight," Nicole said. "I better go, but I'll see you soon."

"If you want your curse back," Bobby said suddenly, "you can have it. It is yours, after all." Alex shot him a questioning look. "Who knows, you may get one more chance at love and forget all about us."

"Are you offering a trade, Bobby, my passion in return for a promise that I never bother you again? Oh, I had thought you better than that, smarter. If I was willing to give it up in the first place to have my revenge, what makes you think I would give up any further chance of vengeance in order to have it back?"

"You didn't realize what you were giving up," Bobby said, beginning to pace back and forth across the hall. "Passion is the fire that lights up our dreary, solitary lives. Love ... love is sometimes the only thing that makes living bearable - more than bearable, worth coming back from the dead for." He looked over at her as he said it, and Alex felt that warmth ease through her once again, only to be pierced by Nicole's icy voice.

"Love didn't bring me back, Bobby. After you killed me, only vengeance brought me back to this world, and it is all that is keeping me here. Keep the curse. I don't need it. Revenge is a dish best served cold anyway." There was silence, and then a dial tone echoed along the hallway.

"Well," Bobby said, closing his cell and putting it back in his pocket, "looks like she got away again." Strangely, he didn't sound too upset about it. He reached out and took her hand. "What do you say to dinner at my place?"

"What about Nicole?" Alex asked, looking up at him as they headed down the hall.

"She's not invited," he said with a slight smile. His face became serious again and he shrugged. "She'll turn up, but not tonight, I think." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "When I was dead, all the pain and regret and Nicole Wallaces of my life disappeared. Only the joy and laughter and - and _you_ stayed. So if life is just a chance to pack for the real adventure, don't you think we should only bother with the things we get to take?"

"That's nice," Alex said with a smile, "we've only been together a week, and already I'm baggage."

_Fin_

* * *

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue. 


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